


Muggles, Beaters, and Potions (led me to you)

by ezybreezy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clexa, F/F, F/M, Orphans, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Y1 and Beyond, clexa is ours, enjoy the ride, fuck you jroth, hp!au, no one will die, rags to magic, unless they really deserve it.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:17:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezybreezy/pseuds/ezybreezy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa remembers her when they were barely eleven, her own elbows scuffed from collisions and cheeks reddened with astonishment, as sky-borne eyes infiltrated her inner thoughts and desires. She was brilliant then (now, her incandescence rivals that of the sun) and left Lexa utterly awestruck and emblazoned with curiosity. Lexa finds her again in Diagon Alley when the knowledge of magic, witches, and wizards is made privy and soon later at Hogwarts. Lexa observed silently from the shadows (an unfortunate consequence of pride and sacrifice), daring to dream about the intersection of their paths. Potions, Quidditch, and fate synthesize Clarke and Lexa’s separate destinies into a singularity.<br/>A Clexa HP!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revelations Part One

_When virtue is lost, benevolence appears. When benevolence is lost, right conduct appears. When right conduct is lost, expedience appears. Expediency is the mere shadow of right and truth; it is the beginning of disorder._

― Lao Tzu

 

 

“I have a bad feeling about this, L—“

“Shh!” Eyes, akin to sunlight fluttering through summer leaves, snap to the voice. “What other choices do we have?”

Brown bores into green for a breath. The berated one’s shoulders collapse, allowing an indignant huff to escape before looking away towards the market square. “We don’t.”

A nod is exchanged with him. “But, the market is too quiet. There’s not enough people and with how bright it is today, we won’t blend into the shadows.” The boy quickly spits out, anxiety and worry etched across his young face.

“Gustus,”

The emerald-eyed girl turns fully towards him and crosses her arms. While she stands no taller than five feet, the combination of dark dirt smudged down her face and a fearless glare commands obedience and attention. Intricate braids pulls brown hair from her face; some rebellious strands struggle against their confines, wisping out near her ears. Her lips are set in a firm line, her jaw clenching and unclenching, carefully deciding her next words.

“Without these supplies, our _kru_ will not get survive these coming weeks,” Delicate fingers toy with the tattered, burgundy scarf looped around her neck. “We’ve just finished the last loaf of bread, we have been out of medicine for nearly a month, and the market’s largest shipment of the year has just arrived. This is the _only_ time to strike.” The girl squares her shoulders and stands straighter. “We will wait until noon; we will succeed.” Green eyes turn away and resume scanning the square.

Gustus imperceptivity nods before sitting down on the cobblestoned earth, his back flush with a brick wall.

“ _Sha, Heda.”_

 

She knows this stunt is risky. Success will keep them comfortable for some time, but failure will have her locked up with the key thrown away for an unforeseeable future. The young leader shakes her head vigorously; failure is not an option. Success was the only way for them to survive in their cold world.

Her _kru_ consisted of six children, ranging from seven to eleven years old. She and Gustus were eleven and due to being the eldest, the bulk of responsibilities fell upon their shoulders. It had not always been this way.

_A man named Titus had raised the gaggle of them. Titus had explained that the kru had been delivered to him years ago, all too young to remember if they had loved ones or what happened to them, and raised them as if they were his own. So they crammed together, two or three per room in their small flat, located in the worst of Newham. She remembered Titus rambling about his distrust of their public schools and instead homeschooled them. He held the kru to a ridiculously high standard and expected nothing but excellence. However, the phrase ‘Work Hard, Play Hard’ was a respected ritual for the family. If they finished all of their lessons and kept to Titus’ expectations, they were able to go run about as they wished. They learned the streets of Newham better than the vasculature on the backs of their hands. There wasn’t a nook or cranny they didn’t know: they’d split up into teams and have clan wars, smearing their faces with dirt and fighting with crafted sticks, some days they were fierce warriors, others wizards and witches; they’d play stickball on abandoned streets; play fetch with the alley dogs; and prank some of the local kids. As the years passed, they became a tight knit family; loyal, extremely determined, and would sacrifice anything for one another._

_Unfortunately, everything inevitably comes to an end._

_She woke up to panicked crying and her gut immediately filled with dread. She whipped the door open to find Gustus flying out of his bedroom, eyes filled with worry. They both barreled down the stairs to find their younger siblings searching frantically. Lincoln and Nyko were searching underneath the couch, ripping pillows off the couch, tears flowing freely down their faces. Aden was on the floor, legs crossed, staring emptily at the wall. Echo was pacing back and forth, hands in her hair. Gustus reached out and grabbed Echo’s arm, asking her what in the world was going on, what was wrong. Echo’s lips quivered in time with her body, she explained they’d been awake for a few hours now and couldn’t find Titus. Titus was gone. Gustus nervously chuckled and said he probably went out to grab some groceries; Echo’s head shook back and forth as he said this. She raised a trembling finger and pointed towards the television._

_A gruesome crime scene was being filmed live on the local news channel. Reporters were explaining how a local coming home from the bar that night stumbled upon the scene and found the victim eviscerated._

_The victim had been identified as Titus Woods. No next of kin._

_The eyes of the forest closed as her legs collapsed beneath her; they were alone once again._

She viciously ground her palms into her eyes, forcing the stinging back into the recesses of her mind. For two years, she’s found a way to keep them alive; she wasn’t giving up now.

 

She rewrapped her burgundy scarf around her head and turned it into a loose babushka while Gustus slipped his hood over his head. Their clothing was dark and baggy with copious amounts of pockets; they needed everything they could get their hands on. People were flooding the open market from every direction, there was barely any standing room left. It was time.

She steps out of the dark alleyway with her head down, her frame immediately disappearing in the thrush of adults. She slowly sidesteps the crowd, allows them to push her lithe frame around, and zones in on her initial target: the bakery. She grabs the more visually innocuous items: croissants, small loaves, and a bunch of sweet pastries. _It’s much more difficult to notice a few of those missing versus a few baguettes,_ she reasons. She makes her way through the deli, grabbing cheeses and some cured meats, then the farmers’ market for loose fruits and vegetables, but not before she sees Gustus sneaking off with the supplies he gathered. There is only one stop she has left: the pharmacy.

Fortunately for them, due to these open markets being such a hit with the locals, all sorts of businesses adapted to this format. For instance, the pharmacy brings small supplies out like band aids, anti-bacterials, and other simple over-the-counter drugs to lure in the house-moms who don’t want to make multiple trips. Furthermore, they’ll crank up the prices compared to their in-house costs and call it a ‘convenience charge.’

She snorts. _It really just makes our job much easier, especially with all of this foot traffic._

Smirking, she zones in and categorizes what their _kru_ needs and lays out an action plan in her head. First plan of attack were to gather some of those OTCs; ibuprofen is an invaluable medicine for them. The poor living conditions and slight malnutrition has lowered the younger children’s immune systems and they become febrile quiet easily. Propelling her body forward, she launches into posit—

_THWACK!_

 

She feels her body be shoved backwards after she ran into what felt like a wall. Landing hard on the ground with a hard _oomph_ , elbows painfully scraping across the concrete ground as she skids backwards a bit. She squeezes her eyes shut briefly, forcing back the yelp she wants to emit. _Count to five,_ she tells herself,

 _One_ , why did she feel warm?

 _Two_ , there was extra pressure on her chest and a pleasant _(tropical?)_ scent.

 _Three_ , why does she hear a rush of words?

 _Four,_ blueblueblueblue.

Not until she looks up, does she find herself breathless. (She fervently blames it on the stranger practically _lounging_ on her chest)

“..are you okay, because I really didn’t see you there and now we are on the ground and your cheeks are super red. Did you break something? I should go find my mom, she’s a doctor, but I’ve totally lost her …” The voice rambles.

On top of her is a girl around her age with eyes born from the sky and hair shining as bright as the sun. Even in this dingy market, the girl illuminates her entire vision. Her blonde hair is dripping down onto her chest, as she looks down, eyes animated and bright. She’s wearing dark robes, something unusual in this day and time, with an oxford, her hands buzzing with life. Forest eyes scan this newcomer with awe, her heart thudding against its confines.

_What?_

Forcibly, she takes a deep breath and tries to center herself. _Five._ She pushes the sun-drenched girl off and scrambles to her feet. She feels a thick heat travelling across her face and neck and tries to clear her throat to apologize, but is largely unsuccessful. The girl across from her giggles at her antics, stands up, and brushes herself off.

“Are you okay?” Green stick to blue. She feels the blush coming back with a fury.

“I should be asking you that, considering I used you as a cushion!” The blonde shot back, taking a step closer. She put her hands on the other girl’s face and frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? You feel sorta warm..”

Instantly, the brunette stepped back and bashfully turned away. “I am fine, thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She said quickly, desperately trying to hide the newly fueled fire spreading across her face. She turned her body and preparing to run away as quickly as possible from this _preposterous_ situation she’s found herself in.

“Wait!” Green eyes shot up, “Don’t forget your apple!” a red object flashed in front of her eyes, “the name’s Clarke, maybe I’ll see you again?” A gentle smile adorns the blonde’s face; _hopeful._

The girl in the red babushka raises an eyebrow and chews on her lower lip before taking the proffered apple, “Lexa,” Azure eyes light up with glee. “May we meet again, Clarke.”

With a subtle tilt of her head, Lexa spins on her heel and books it out of the market. Medicine be damned because whatever that girl did to her heart and mind was absolutely incurable; Gustus can come back and get all of it himself.

//

 

Sweat dripping down the nape of the neck, sun kissing cheeks until they burn as red as the stars of the universe; melting popsicles and drinking out of a hose on full blast; the smell of barbeque coals and chasing fireflies into the depth of the night. Summer is in the air and Lexa _hates_ it.

She fancies the cooling autumn breeze, the gentle caress from the sun, and the _color._ She could write all day about the sheer immensity in the varying hues and their sharp contrast against the sapphire sky.

But, this? This sticky, infuriating heat, which exhausts a person by the time the Earth’s large star, reaches its apex. That very same heat causes her _kru_ to get sloppy and engage with those who do not deserve the attention of a swarm of mosquitos.

This heat is the reason why she’s standing in the middle of a schoolyard brawl, chest heaving, and Aden writhing on the ground behind her. Lexa saw a fair amount of blood emanating from his hands; a broken nose, she surmises. A callous chuckle breaks her inner dialogue, causing her to tense and grit her teeth.

Before her stood Emerson and his thugs, a bunch of brats whose parents were high up in the local gang. Emerson and co were in their eighth year at the public school a few blocks parallel to their flat, (and while her _kru_ didn’t have Titus anymore, they still abided by his planned lessons, reading everything they could get their hands on) which kept their fraternization to a minimum. Lexa often liked to subtly rub in her advanced intellect when compared to Emerson, who failed his sixth year miserably and barely held onto the skin of his teeth this current year. Things got fairly troublesome during the summer recess. The older gang would go looking for trouble and had a distinctly tuned radar for Lexa and her family.

Lexa, Echo, and Aden were on their way back to the flat after doing some odd delivery jobs for the tailor in their neighborhood. The tailor was an old friend of Titus’ and Lexa offered to drop off things to local customers in exchange for money or food once Titus passed (they didn’t _really_ want or like having to steal from neighboring communities, it was one of those things that _had_ to be done to survive). They were counting their spoils when Emerson and his gang ambushed them and sucker-punched the most vulnerable at the time, Aden. _Payback,_ Lexa thought for when Gustus tripped Emerson in front of some girls last week. _I swear the bloody heat turns them all into blockheads._ After a short scuffle, Lexa managed to put some distance between the two opposing sides, allowing for Echo to tend to Aden.

“For being a part of a family who bullies the majority of Newham, I suppose I’m not surprised you’re _that_ cowardly to ambush us from some dark alley.” Lexa all but growls, tilting her chin up. “I guess you’re so desperate for attention, and sick of getting your ass handed to you by us, that’s _all_ you could resort to.”

Emerson’s face quickly resembles a pulsating tomato, “I swear to god, Woods. I’ll end you and your riffraff family” Emerson threatens, lunging forward slightly when his friends encourage him from behind.

“Echo, get Aden out of here,” Lexa whispers harshly over her shoulder. “I’ll deal with these morons.”

“But, Lexa—“

“Just go!” Lexa barks.

“Awe, look at big, bad _Heda._ You really think you can take on all four of us? Where’s Gustus? At least, he’d make this somewhat interesting as I beat the bloody shite out of you.” Emerson sneered.

Lexa is nonchalantly discarding things from her pockets, untying her scarf from her pants; completely ignoring Emerson’s outburst.

“Dammit, Woods!” Lexa is pulling up her hair from her shoulders, “I’m not screwing around.” She stuffs her hands into her pockets and glares across the street, and smirks at him. “…YOU BLOODY GIT!” Emerson lets out a strangled cry as he and his crew sprint towards her.

Lexa digs her foot into the ground, preparing herself for the onslaught she’d created. She can feel the anger and anticipation pooling in her chest, her breaths are short and jagged, and her muscles are tightly coiled. She slowly peers up from her eyelashes and sees them running at her in seemingly slow motion; her eyes connect with Emerson’s. All at once, a deep sense of hatred and unadulterated rage flows through her veins as she looks at the boy. He is the sole reason for injuring her family over the years. Time after time, causing agony and anxiety within them. All of these emotions are seemingly bursting at the seams of her soul.

Emerson raises his fist and pulls back to strike Lexa in the jaw, mere inches away from her.

 _“Let go_ ,” erupts in her mind.  
Lexa screams.

The fist never connects. Instead, the gaggle of fools are comically frozen in space momentarily, before a loud _POP_ is heard, and they slice through the air, landing meters away from Lexa.

Her body is heaving, gasping for oxygen. She hears groans from the tangled heap of bodies. She tenses and realizes she will never get away with this stunt.

Lexa staggers backwards a few steps, grabs her things, and runs. The small brunette only has one thing looping through her mind on repeat the rest of the day:

 

_What the bloody hell was that?_

 

Lexa never tells anyone about the mystifying event. She wracks her brain for any plausible explanation, but comes up short in every scenario. She had nearly resigned to herself that it was a made-up memory to avoid reliving the trauma of being beat up so bad by the goons. Except last Friday, when she passed Lackey Number 3 near the Plaistow station, he scurried off like a wounded animal. (The look of pure horror on his face was in it of itself pure gold) This event restarted her cycle of repeated mapping of possibilities and their outcomes; Lexa was growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of a solution.

Over the coming weeks, the family reported Emerson and his lackeys scattered into the shadows to lick their wounds and now she’s sure they will never come back for revenge… at least for the remainder of the break.

So naturally, Lexa finds herself on the flat’s stoop, lounging out languidly without a care in the world. Cusped within her hands is _The Graveyard Book_ ; through the creased pages, messy scrawls, and underlined words, Lexa’s love for this novel is materialized. The author details a family’s unfortunate end by a murderer. This family had a baby boy, who was unbeknownst to the murderer, who escapes his bedroom and crawls up a hill to the graveyard. The ghosts raise the child and the rest of the book documents the boy’s adventures and eventual learning of his family’s misfortune.

Lexa always tuts a bit at the supernatural abilities the boy acquired from engaging with his ghost family; it wasn’t anything overly useful. For example, he could only become invisible when no one was looking _. Isn’t the point the opposite?_ She chided internally. Why not develop less passive skills, which meant something, that could produce some sort of change? Lexa lets out a soft puff of air and closes the book. Regardless of her small annoyances with the character, the novel’s words and wisdom strike Lexa. It is a constant reminder of a family she never knew she had lost, but still lost all the same. After all, misery loves company.

 _There’s no reason to linger on things I cannot control_ , Lexa thinks as she studies the cloudless, blue sky. The color sparks a memory in her mind of the blonde hurricane she met in the market at the end of spring. Lexa wonders what it would be like to have a friend like that; _Clarke_ seemed lovely. At this point in her life, she is ignorant of why the butterflies grow and flutter in the pit of her stomach, of the small smile that adorns her lips, and the constriction of her chest. For now, when she realizes these feelings have manifested, Lexa pushes them down and focuses on a different task. Someday, perhaps.

Luckily today she does not need to search for an undertaking; her distraction comes in the form of a furry bandit. It jumps onto her chest, grasping a few coins in its grubby, black claws, and chirps happily at Lexa.

“Hello, Soncha. How’s my little kitty doing today?” Lexa coos while scratching behind his ears.

Except, Sonchageda is anything but a cat, but no one can convince Lexa otherwise. In reality, he is seven kilos of raccoon who will eat anything left unattended, pilfer from anyone who looks at Lexa the wrong way, and has followed Lexa around ever since she found him abandoned in an alleyway last winter. Lexa spent the better half of the winter nursing him back to health, using resources from the local libraries and Google (because Google can never go wrong) while her siblings scoffed.

“Lexa, that is a raccoon, not a cat”

“It’s feral, Lex. We can’t keep it.”

“Cats don’t have grimy paws like that, sis!”

“LEXA, GO LOOK UP RACCOONS!”

“Rabies! You’re going to kill us all!”

Lexa didn’t bat an eye at their incessant pleas to get rid of Soncha. In fact, it forged a greater resolve to make sure he grew up strong enough to survive on his own. The brunette told them if they hurt her cat, that she’d end them all if they dared defy her. With a smile, of course.

When it was warm enough in the spring, she let Soncha out of their flat and began her trek to do some errands for money. She expected that he would never return (she secretly hoped he would). So when she came clambering up the road after a long, laborious day to see the porch empty, she naturally felt crestfallen. That is, until the little bugger jumped onto her shoulders from the roof where he had stationed himself, awaiting her return. Now, every morning they part ways and reunite before night falls upon Newham. Sometimes they come home empty handed, other times they are successful in their endeavors, but regardless of the outcome Lexa is just happy she has her _entire_ family safe. Lexa softly smiles as she strokes Soncha’s fur and feels his full weight plop down on her stomach; she closes her eyes.

The sticky heat is still prominent, but today there is a gentle breeze coming off the Thames miles away. Lincoln and Aden are bickering over cheating in a chess match and the sound of someone in the kitchen. She hears some birds squawking above her head, thinking nothing of it. _All is good,_ she thinks.

Lexa feels Soncha perk up, sniffing slightly in the wind, before getting up off her torso. A few moments later, she hears a crinkling and the telltale pitter-pattering of Soncha’s footsteps. Lexa pries an eye open and searches for him, eyes readjusting to the harsh, summer light.

She finds him at the edge of the curb, holding a medium sized envelope, curiously sniffing the exterior. Soncha holds it out in front of him, examines it once more, and then begins gnawing on the peripheries. Lexa sighs and rolls her eyes and pushes off the heels of her palms.

“Soncha, drop it. Bad kitty.” She chastises, shaking a finger at him on her approach. Soncha merely pauses for a moment with a brief head tilt, but hastily resumes his ministrations. Lexa swore she saw him smirk.

“Give it here, you big dolt.” Lexa snatches the envelope out of his hands; _heavy and textured_ she notes. Soncha lets out a small grunt and scampers off looking for something else to terrorize. Returning her attention to the envelope, she gasps:

A WOODS

The smallest bedroom shared with two

16 Grange Road

LONDON

E13 0EW

 

_What kind of sick joke is this?_ Lexa wonders. No one in this world knew about them, except for each other and a few locals. She flips the letter on its back and finds it pressed closed with a wax seal and en emblem above the flap. A crest encapsulated four creatures: a lion; a serpent; a raven, and a badger. The name “Hogwarts” stood boldly out on a banner above the crest. _This is a really intricate joke, I must say. Easily singles out Emerson and his morons._

“Might as well figure out what they cooked up,” Lexa scoffs as she rips into the envelope.

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Marcus Kane

Dear Ms. Alexandria Woods,

 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

 

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

 

Yours sincerely,

 

Indra Trikru

Deputy Headmistress

 

The stationary was heavy and weathered slightly and, sure enough, behind the introductory letter another page was inserted behind it with outlandish materials.

“Tsk. This is some messed up shite.” Lexa grumbled as she crumbled up the paper and threw it in Soncha’s direction. He jumped with glee, instantly snatching up the parchment, surely to deposit it in one of his many hiding spots.

Lexa stomps up the small steps, braided hair flying as she yanks open the rickity wooden door, and slams it behind her.

“LINCOLN!”

Above on the power lines, four owls gently coo and tilt their heads at the ruckus emanating from the small flat.

 

 

 

Every morning following her discovery of the first letter, Soncha has brought her a new one; sealed and unperturbed. And Lexa, not being one to disappoint, theatrically throws it away in various fashions as the week goes on. Unsurprisingly, one afternoon Lexa finds that Soncha had made a fairly decent looking bed out of all of her letters. _At least someone will have some use of them_ , she ganders.

They follow this routine for some while, passively ignoring the swarm of owls, which have taken constant refuge around their flat and these ‘pranks’ while throwing death glares at her siblings because, obviously, she can’t tell which one did it yet. They’re all _magnificent_ liars, she’s deduced.

July 27th rolls around and Lexa feels uneasy about the impending July 31st deadline on the letter; she shakes this thought off vigorously. (She will never in a million years give herself false hope, she’s learned all too well about _that_ weakness.) Her anxiety is not quelled with the knowledge of one of the largest thunderstorms London has seen all season is rolling in; a bad omen encroaching slowly. As if on queue, a flash of lightning crackles through the darkening sky and seconds later the deep rolling of thunder follows.

If this doesn’t cause Lexa to simultaneously break into a deep sweat and sprint, nothing else in this world will.

Her brisk walk abruptly changes into a sprint, Soncha dutifully following behind her. Lexa tries to find as many covered areas as possible; she’d be the accidental death by lightning reported on BBC, she knows it. The rain comes bellowing down in buckets not five minutes later, and now she’s drenched to the bone. Lexa picks up Soncha and drives forward, weaving in and out of alleyways, trying to find the best, safest route home. She cuts hard at the next corner, only to nearly run into a tall, sharp-faced woman. Lexa skids to a stop, causing Soncha to flop out of her grip, and land softly at the feet of the woman. The raccoon grumbles a bit at this and looks up when he hears a snigger.

“Well, well… what is this?” The woman spoke, deep and huskily. Lexa peered up at her; the woman’s eyes were chestnut and set above cheekbones seemingly carved from marble with dirty blonde hair waving around her tanned face wildly. She had a slight smirk as knelt down to Soncha’s level, her dark robes pooling at her feet, and picked him up gently underneath his armpits.

“A raccoon, huh?” The woman with a small chuckle, Soncha stared directly into her eyes, unbothered by the proximity. Lexa scrambled to her feet and got close to the woman, but felt dwarfed in comparison; even while crouching, the woman was taller than Lexa.

“He’s a cat, lady. Put him down,” Lexa exclaimed, puffing her chest out. The woman let a full-bellied laugh out.

“Feisty, I see. That comes with little surprise. However,” The woman dropped Soncha and stood to her full height. “He’s a raccoon, dear child. I didn’t expect you to be dense in that regard…”

Lexa saw red, “Child?! You’re what, like fifteen or sixteen? Not that much older than me! AND HE’S A CAT!” She rushed out with a heaving chest. “Who are you?” Lexa’s eyebrows furrow deeper.

“The better question is, do you know who _you_ are, Alexandria Woods?” The taller woman queried with a slight twitch of her eyebrows. “Why have you been ignoring your acceptance letters?”

_Letters? Oh_ —“

“You have been the one sending me those false letters? What do you think I am, a fool? Wizards? Magic? Are you trying to prey upon us? We don’t have anything, we are just trying to _survive_!” Lexa’s face at this point is flaming red, her green eyes wide and shining with rage, fists clenched at her side.

A breath is passed as lightning smacks down on the earth in the distance, its thunder rumbling heavily in their chests. Soncha flinches. The woman’s face softens slightly and something dawns upon her.

“You don’t know, do you?” She asks quietly, Lexa grinds her teeth. “My name is Anya Woods. I am an upcoming Fourth year at Hogwarts.” Anya averts her gaze slightly, “You are my cousin, my father’s sister’s daughter. We only just found you when you used accidental magic a few weeks ago.”

Lexa’s mind was reeling. She didn’t have family. Magic?

“What kind of bullsh—“

“You’re a witch, Alexandria.” Anya cut her off, jutting her chin up proudly. “You _will_ attend Hogwarts this fall and you _will_ be great. It is in your blood, cousin.”

Thunder slammed into her chest, rattling her bones, her very essence. The ground trembled beneath her and the world began to spin. Darkness seeped into the peripheries of Lexa’s vision and she felt her knees hit the ground. Lexa succumbed to the blackness; all that remained was silence.

 





	2. Revelations Part Two

_One isn’t necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential. Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can’t be kind, true, merciful, generous or honest._

― Maya Angelou

 

 

_Stars scatter the midnight blue expanse, Polaris shimmering brilliantly against the millions. The moon is casting a ghastly light across the darkened body of water. Soft bellows of wind are cascading across its surface, rippling with pent-up energy. With the gusts come a gentle scent, coconuts and spices, all full of life; it envelops her like red-hot flames in a pit. Lexa opens her eyes and breathes out sharply; searching, searching, searching. Lexa finds her standing on the waters edge; hair silvered by the light, skin pale and luminescent, arms wrapped tightly around her own body (protect thy self, the gesture screams). Lexa gingerly steps forward, careful to not shatter the scene; she wants to protect the girl, lend her strength, let her sentiments be known. Her voice is caught in her throat at the sight, at the overwhelming feelings she has for this girl. She imagines it’s akin to a tugboat about to be capsized by a tsunami wave._

_Forgive me, her thoughts echo._

//

 

She wakes up with a start; cold sweat pooling at the nape of her neck with trembling fingers. Lexa tries to control her breathing (in through the nose, out through the mouth) and continuously clenches and unclenches her hands. The remnant dream and its consequent feelings are slowly fading from her memory, reality crashing through her conscious.

_Oh._

The memories of _Anya_ and _family_ and _witches_ and _magic_ come speeding to the forefront. Lexa doesn’t allow this to give her hope; it’s all lies she tells herself. They were all just a part of her vivid dreams, an escape from her existence. Lexa takes a ragged breath and rubs her eyes. She concludes it must have been a dream because she woke up in her own room and deduced it must be relatively late because everyone else’s beds were empty and made. She’s forgotten about her heart-wrenching dream and just nearly convinced herself Anya and her revelations were part of said dreams, until she sees the letter.

It’s her Hogwarts letter, opened and laid out, with someone’s messy scrawl in the margins. Lexa scoots to the edge of the bed, heart thumping steadily in her ears, and reads the note:

 

_Alexandria,_

_As I explained to you yesterday afternoon, you will be going to Hogwarts, a wizardry school our entire family has attended; class will begin on September 1 st. We need to gather all of the materials you and Gustus require for the upcoming term and there is only one place to do so in this area. Meet me at the Plaistow Station at 13:00. _

_Do not keep me waiting._

_Anya_

 

Lexa let out a huff and glanced at her battered alarm clock: _11:42_ , it blinked steadily back. She’d better go get Gust—

“GUSTUS!” She screeched and harshly tumbled out of bed. Lexa’s mind was spinning; how could he have not talked to her about this? Why were they both holding those weights on their separate shoulders instead of faring it together?

The green-eyed girl slid around a corner and into the living room, looking for a mop of black-hair and angst. Instead, Lincoln and Aden stuffing eggs and toast down their throats greeted her. Aden’s dirty blonde hair waved around in his eyes as he looked up, searching for the source of the disturbance. Lincoln continued scarfing down his food without a care.

“G’morning, Lex.” Aden smiled broadly, “Hungry?” He held out his bowl of food to her. Lincoln grunted hello.

“Good morning,” Lexa greeted carefully, evening her tone and removing the anger housed for Gustus. “Have you seen Gustus?” Aden bobbed his head thoughtfully, swallowing a bolus of food.

“Mhm, he’s out on the stoop.” Aden forked another heaping pile of food into his mouth, “He made a huge breakfast with some extra goods we got yesterday. Get some before the bottomless pit over here eats it all.” Aden nudged Lincoln playfully.

“ ‘m sorry fer growin” Lincoln defended, choking slightly.

“Thanks, guys. Enjoy breakfast.” Lexa smiled softly and turned on her heel towards the front door. She yanked open the front door and found herself face to face with her target.

“You.” She growled, poking him in the chest and forcing Gustus back outside. “You lied to me.” Gustus has his hands up, pleading with his eyes. Lexa slams the door behind her.

“That’s not fair, Lexa. You weren’t exactly truthful, either.” He folded his arms across his chest, voice defensive. Gustus looked at her from the side, “I didn’t know you had been getting letters, too. I didn’t find out it was real until Anya near busted the bloody door open with you last night.”

“We are _family_ , Gustus. We’re supposed to bear these issues together, not separately. You’re not Atlas.” She stepped up into his face again, green eyes glowing with frustration.

“You’re being hypocritical!” Gustus bumped his chest into hers, “I understand that, I am sorry I kept it from you, but let’s not forget you did the _exact same thing._ ” Gustus stood to his full height and took a breath. “You are the leader, the strongest, but you’re also the glue in this family. You can’t always keep your stuff to yourself and expect us to come clean about everything. I noticed you were stressed, angry even. I didn’t want to make it worse with this. I honestly thought it was a huge joke.”

Lexa slumped slightly and winced, “… You’re right.” She paused, “I have been hypocritical, I am sorry. Everything has just kinda exploded. I have no idea what to do and what this means for the _kru_ …” Lexa’s hands were going a mile a minute threading through her hair and rubbing her temples. “What do we do?” Gustus gripped her shoulders and shook her gently.

“Sis, it’s okay. Anya has everything figured out. We can stop living like this, everything is going to be okay.” Gustus said in a low voice.

“What if it’s a trick? What if she’s trying to like, make us into slaves or something?”

“Lex—“

“Or sell us to the pirates in Africa? Did you see the latest news? Somaloan, Somali, something odd—“

“Lexa—“

“WHAT IF SHE IS A SERIAL KILLER AND WILL MOUNT US ON THE WALL, GUSTUS WE GOTTA RUN—“

“LEXA, CHILL!” Gustus yelled over her and laughed. “Everything is fine. She knew about Titus, she talked about our families, and while she didn’t explain everything, she promised her family would take us in. They’ll take care of our siblings when we go to Hogwarts and make sure we _all_ succeed.” Lexa nodded slowly, trying to take everything in. “Anya will explain things better today, I’m sure.”

“This is so overwhelming, Gus. I haven’t felt this messed up in the head since Ti… he died. I just need time to process, I think.” Lexa took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry again, for being an ass.” Gustus smirks, Lexa rolls her eyes at his cockiness, but is immensely relieved by this gesture.

“It’s fine, Lex. We all have our moments.” He smacks her on the shoulder playfully as he walks past. “Let’s get some food before we have our minds blown, eh?” Lexa perks up.

“Oh yeah, I’m so hungry. I think I could eat like Lincoln right now!” She replies, mood lightened, and follows him back into the flat.

 

//

 

The train ride was uneasy at its best, but downright infelicitous at its worst. Poor Gustus, he tried his hardest to break the tension with terrible jokes and random trivia, but Lexa just stared unblinkingly at Anya. Her eyes would divert momentarily when Gustus spoke, giving him the subtle clue that she was in fact listening to his feeble attempts, but quickly resumed glaring at her target. Anya looked completely unperturbed and if Lexa weren’t so furious, it would’ve been quite funny to observe. Whenever Anya spoke, Lexa’s body slightly twitched as if she were physically holding herself back, but bit off some sort of retort instead.

“We’ll need to make a bunch of stops for all of the supplies, it’ll be a long day so eat up now.” Anya began, “Ryder will meet us there and—“

“Who’s Ryder?” Lexa snapped.

“He’s… an aide of a sort,” Anya’s face screwed up a bit, obviously confused on what title to give him. “He’s been with the family for decades, he’s like an older brother to me.” She concluded

“It must be nice to have a servant. Here I was thankful for some food on the table...” Lexa bit, her hand dramatically waving about with hard eyes. Anya smirked slightly and raised an eyebrow. It served to infuriate Lexa more. Gustus shrunk lower into the seat. These little bouts occurred during the entirety of the ride with Lexa becoming increasingly pointed after each attempt. Gustus thought Anya must have a mile long fuse (unfortunately, he was about to be proven incorrect).

“Do you know about the magical sport of Quidditch yet? No? Mother taught us at an early age how to play quidd—“

“Oh, your mother didn’t abandon you? Did your family forget about you until it was convenient? Cos’ Mine did”

Anya sucked in a breath, clearly refraining from smacking (perhaps hexing) her cousin, and stood.

“Let’s be very clear about something,” Anya towered down at Lexa, who petulantly looked back up. “I. Did. Not. Know. You. Were. Alive,” Anya enunciated slowly and deliberately, “Uncle Titus informed my parents you were all annihilated, nothing left remaining.” Lexa’s eyes widened at her pseudo-father’s name. “He lied. As soon as I found out about your survival, I searched for you day and night. And to think, I find you in the goddamn slums of Newham playing with a bloody raccoon—“

“He’s a cat—“ Anya held her hand up,

“—And valiantly taking care of the Kongeda Natblidas children. Loving, teaching, caring, and parenting all of them.” Anya’s eyes were slightly glassing over, “I am so proud of you, Lexa, and I am so sorry for not being there for you.” Something passed swiftly over Anya’s face and her usual stony composure blanketed her features.

“But, I am now. So get off your high horse and grow up. I promise, everything will be okay now. You can relax.” Anya’s chestnut eyes were swimming with emotion, “Deal?”

Lexa visibly softened at these revelations and nodded. “I am sorry.” She whispered. “I had no idea... I don’t understand why these things have happened, Tit— he’s dead and I don’t know why he would’ve lied about this all— I’m so confused.” Lexa looked at Gustus, who was also visibly emotional, and offered a feeble shrug.

“There must have been a good reason.” Anya stated, finding the peeling leather of her seat ever so fascinating. “I cannot give you answers, unfortunately.” Lexa huffed.

“What was the Kongeda Natbildas, then?” Lexa asked, waving her hand around to insinuate she wasn’t sure if she named them correctly.

“Again, answers I cannot give.” The train’s speakers let out a loud, mechanical pinging noise and announced the station, “However, it seems we have arrived. Time to get you two prepped for your first year at Hogwarts!” Anya diverted the conversation and stood, stretching slightly. “Let’s go, Ryder is surely waiting for us in Diagon Alley.”

Lexa huffed for the seemingly billionth time for the day and pushed Gustus forward as he stood.

“Well, that was interesting.” He offered with a bleak smile.

“Shut up, branwada and walk.” Lexa grunted, a small smile peeking out from her lips.

Gustus snorted a laugh and all of the tension between the two dissipated.

 

//

 

Ryder turned out to be a beast of a man; he stood nearly seven feet tall, a clear endomorph with his protruding muscles and mass. Near black hair fell to his mid-back with the sides of his head shaved and he sported a long, tangled beard. Lexa tilted her head at him, looked over to Gustus, and let out a quiet _huh_. Interestingly enough, other than Gustus’ moody disposition, they looked as if they could be brothers. Liquid gold eyes, check. A penchant for shaving the sides of their heads, check. Brawny and relatively silent, check. Odd, Lexa thought.

Lexa was surprised when it was revealed Ryder could not speak; he and Anya were not communicating through speech. Rather, his hands were articulating his thoughts in sweeping motions. Lexa noted he was not deaf as he reacted to sound stimuli, exemplified when Gustus sucker punched Lexa in the arm and she let out a sharp squeak. He turned around and glanced at them questioningly; Gustus smiled sweetly while Lexa’s face only continued to redden. (She made sure to shin kick the little shite once Anya and Ryder’s attentions resumed to one another) She opted out of asking him for the reason or definition of his disability; she didn’t want to be rude.

Ryder resumed signing to Anya, who was nodding thoughtfully at whatever he was explaining. He looked over at Gustus momentarily, eyes distinctly expressing something, before waving his head back in forth in deliberation. It seems he came to whatever consensus because he let out a breath and nodded an affirmative to Anya. Anya’s delicate hands whipped around in air and _smiled_ at him. Lexa didn’t think Anya could look anything but intimidating but she actually seemed _pleasant_ in that moment

“Okay,” Anya broke the silence and Lexa’s reverie, “Gustus, you will be with Ryder today. He knows exactly what you need, barring any preferences of your own, and will guide you through the stores. Do not worry about monetary values, it is covered.” She pursed her lips slightly, “Do not go overboard, opulence and greed are not virtues this family exemplifies.”

“Lexa,” Emerald eyes popped up from the cobblestone, “You and I will gather up your supplies. Do keep up, little cousin.” Anya said smoothly with a wicked smile and walked off at a breakneck pace.

“See you later, Lex.” Gustus chirped as he turned and followed Ryder.

Lexa had to nearly run to catch up with Anya.

 

//

 

Two hours later and Lexa is drenched with sweat. She’s practically dragging her bags, is starving, has sweat dripping from her eyebrows, and probably smells like a bum near the local pub. She pulls her forearm up and quickly swipes her brow for the millionth time and grunts. Anya’s near six-foot frame allows for a huge stride, but accompanied with the fact she is a brisk walker and Lexa being close to a foot and a half shorter, she’s struggled all afternoon to keep up.

So far, they’ve had Lexa fitted for her robes, hat, and winter jackets at Madam Malkin’s and an all black suit tailored at Twilfitt and Tattings. Anya suggested a suit or dress would be appropriate for social gatherings outside of the school. Lexa pondered on this because she’s never been to a so-called social gathering let alone been invited, but didn’t argue because damn, she really liked how she looked in the suit. Anya must have noticed this detail because she later mentioned once Lexa finished growing they could come back again and play with the style. (Lexa promised herself she would find a way to pay for it herself; she was having issues with not being able to contribute) Anya then brought her to Amanuensis Quill for ink, quills, and stationary, Flourish and Blotts for the term’s required books, passed the Quidditch supply store (Anya explained all about the sport throughout the day and Lexa was nothing short of intrigued. Apparently, Anya was a Beater for Slytherin. Lexa was miffed when she heard first years were prohibited from playing/having a broomstick), and have just entered Eeylops Owl Emporium.

“I’m assuming you’re going to try and bring that wretched raccoon to Hogwarts,” Anya starts, fingers dangling over a black collar, “I’m warning you, they only allow cats, toads, and owls.” She picks up the collar, tradenamed TrackNGo. “But, I’m guessing you’ll still try until you’re blue in the face. We’ll get him this so you don’t lose him out in the Forbidden Forest or something…if Headmaster Kane doesn’t throw him out of the castle immediately.” Lexa looked slightly annoyed at first, but chirped up when she heard the lot about cats.

“Oh, they allow cats? Good. Soncha is a bit fat, I know, but he’s a good cat.” Lexa nods with a smile.

“For the love of Merlin...” Anya huffs, rolling her eyes for good measure. “Anyway, I figure we can get an owl for the family. You will have to share it with Gustus and whoever else comes up into Hogwarts in the coming years. I have my own, so don’t worry about me. I’m sure it’ll come in handy.” Anya looks down at Lexa, brown eyes smiling. “Go on, go pick one out.”

Lexa doesn’t need to be told twice. The entire shop is filled with perched owls, flying owls, upside-down owls, each being entirely unique in species or color or size. Lexa meanders around, observing all of the different kinds and how they interact with their surroundings, petting a few and noting how they cooed gently or tried to peck at her. After about five minutes, she sat down on a nearby bench and looked up. Lexa felt something watching her; her attention was immediately drawn to an owl that locked eyes with her. Its pale yellow eyes were stark against its white face and accentuated by surrounding black and brown markings. Its wings were a dusty brown, spotted with white and black, with a longish tail; it just continued to stare curiously at Lexa. Lexa stood and clicked her tongue at it, holding her arm out slightly and watched as it tilted its head at her, tail flicking behind its wings. Anya came up behind her and chuckled.

“It is intrigued by you, it seems.” She says, nudging Lexa with her hip.

“How do you figure that?” Lexa replied, eyes never leaving the owl.

“Look at the tail, it only does that when they’re excited.” Anya answered, firing off her infuriating smirk.

“It won’t come,” The green-eyed girl looks slightly annoyed, but what experience does she really have with an owl anyway.

“Try these,” Anya reaches into her robes and pulls out some packaging with the label Eeylops Premium Owl Treats. “Just one, we can pick some up later if it likes it... And if this is the one you want.” Anya shrugs as Lexa grabs a treat.

Almost immediately the owl comes swooping in at Lexa, stopping itself inches from her hand, and hovers. Lexa gingerly gives the owl the treat, which it greedily consumes, and lets out a content hoo. It proceeds to land on the bench Lexa was previously sitting on. A full-blown grin explodes across the brunette’s face.

“I’d like him, please.” Lexa shouts out to an employee nearby. They nod and grab a cage to stuff the owl in.

“A Northern Hawk Owl, eh? These guys are pretty cool. It’s a girl, by the way.” The employee states as he exchanges money with Anya. Lexa nods, unsure of what she is, just that she's awesome.

“Throw in some treats, would you?” Anya asks, pulling a few additional coins out. “What are you going to name her?”

Lexa purses her lips slightly and squints her green eyes in concentration as she looks at the owl, passing her another treat before looking back up at Anya.

“Delta."

 

//

 

A few shops later and Anya miraculously acquires a cart out of thin air after Lexa trips over a loose cobblestone, effectively throwing everything she was holding across a two-foot diameter. The stoic, green-eyed girl thinks Anya was purposely tormenting her by making her schlep all of her supplies around because of Lexa’s rude outbursts earlier.

“Alright, kid. This is our last stop,” Anya points at the narrow shop in front of them. “You need to be fitted for a wand.” _Ollivanders_ , the green sign above the door and window reads.

“A wand?” Lexa’s eyebrow rises.

“Well, yeah. I mean there are some nonverbal spells, but you always use a wand…” Anya looks at her, slightly perplexed. “Sorry,” She sheepishly smiles and loosens up. “I’m not used to having to explain these things. You’re essentially a muggle when it comes to knowledge of the Magical world.”

“A muggle?”

“Oh, a non-magical person. I’ll try and give you a history lesson on the tube ride back.” Anya rubs her neck. “Anyways, in we go.”

The door opens and group of people emerge; three adults and two kids. The adults are wearing robes like Anya, but the kids are wearing sweater vests and slacks. _Wait…_

“Lexa?” Sky meets forest.

“Clarke?” Lexa’s jaw drops.

Clarke stopped and stared at the brunette as her party continued walking; her blue eyes are full of surprise but a small smile is adorning her face. Her blonde hair is pulled back from her face today, braided near her ears, but shines just as brightly in Diagon Alley. Lexa swallows.

“Lexa, what’re you doing here—“

“Clarke, stop day dreaming! I need to get back to the hospital and your father has a meeting at the Ministry of Magic soon! Keep up!” A woman yells from a few feet away.

“You’d better go,” Lexa strains a smile, wishing they could stay in this moment.

“Yeah… I’m guessing I’ll be seeing you soon, though. May we meet again?” Clarke smiles brightly, mimicking Lexa those months ago, and runs off to her party.

“Yeah…” Lexa says softly, a blush adorning her cheeks.

“Oi, stop staring at pretty girls, Alexandria. We have things to do.” Anya is holding the door open, looking at Lexa strangely.

“Oh shut up, Anya.” She snaps, face beat red, as she stomps over to Anya.

 

//

 

Turns out Ollivanders was just as narrow on the interior as the exterior suggested, but expanded back for eons with shelves packed full of little, rectangular boxes. _And as old and dusty, too_ Lexa thinks after sneezing. The bell above the door rings harshly against the silence of the shop as Anya opens the door.

“Ah, Miss Woods! How are you fancying your wand? A twelve inch, fir wand with a phoenix feather core, yes? Slightly stiff?” An old man with white, straggly hair popped up from behind one of the numerous shelving units.

“Mr. Ollivander. Yes, everything is quite amicable.” Anya nods and answers in a very stiff tone, Lexa tilts her head at this from behind her cousin.

“What can I do for you today, then?” He inquires. Anya moves aside to reveal Lexa.

“Alexandria requires a wand for her first year at Hogwarts.” Anya tilts her chin up.

“Oh! Good afternoon, Miss Alexandria. I remember fitting your mother for her wand many years ago. An ebony, unicorn hair core…” He trails off, muttering indiscernible things. Lexa gasps, unsure of what to do with this information. Anya tsks at this, clearly annoyed.

“Anyway, let’s see you, then.” Lexa shakes her head and stands tall. She clenches her jaw and glowers slightly, trying to appear as big as she can. (She hears Anya stifle a chuckle)

“Hm.” He grabs a box and opens it; the wand in front of her is slightly curved and twisted in nature. “Cypress, 13 ¼”, unicorn core. Go on, pick it up.”

Lexa picks up the wand and examines it, flicking it wildly, only to have a poof of energy emit from the tip causing a slight explosion in front of Lexa.

“Nope.” Lexa’s eyes are wide and surprised, Anya is cackling. Ollivander thrusts another box at her; Lexa hesitantly picks it up.

This time, a warm sensation travels from her fingertips to her core; she feels as if her energy is shifting or equilibrating with the wand’s energy. The wand is a cool grey in colour, fine grain lines from the wood twists up radially to the sharp tip. The handle was ornately carved to create grooves for her fingers. This wand, Lexa feels, is an extension of herself; like another limb.

“Ah, ha! Well that was an interesting find!” Ollivander brings his hands to his gleeful face. “Not many find camaraderie with this type of wand!” Lexa raises an eyebrow at his excitement. “This wand is made from the Yew tree and is fitted with Dragon Heartstrings core. 11 ¾” and rigid it is. Fun fact, apparently yew wands that are buried with their wizard or witch will actually sprout a new tree! Exciting! I expect great things from you, child.”

“Uh, thank you, sir.” Lexa pulls at her earlobe and looks down at her wand.

“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I expect you’ll see more of the family shortly, if you haven’t already. Good day, sir.” Anya gives him seven coins and strides off, Lexa quirks her lips up in thanks and scurries off to follow Anya.

As Lexa chases Anya’s shadow, currently unable to keep up side by side, she thinks Anya is very interesting; she can’t wait to learn more from her cousin, in life and magic.

 

//

 

On the train ride back to Newham, Lexa thinks back to the human epitome of the sun who has eyes born from the sky. Lexa grins bashfully to herself and is very glad to know she can see Clarke again soon. Anya explained to her Clarke more than likely was also a first year; that Lexa should make her move early. Lexa balked at this and swatted at Anya, explaining she’s excited to make new friends and learn some cool stuff. Anya snorted and muttered _damn puppies_ under her breath. Lexa looked for backup from Gustus but she found him passed out and drooling on Ryder’s shoulder. The corner of her lips tucked up a bit.

A lot was going to change over the course of the next week; her and Gustus would be preparing for Hogwarts, they would be moving the _kru_ and all of their belongings to Anya’s family’s residence, and they’d have to explain the whole… _everything_ to them.

Yet, all Lexa could think about was the sun and sky, blissfully content and naïve to all else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so that's a wrap for the introductory chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it. Totally open to asks/messages on Twitter/Tumblr, so send them over that way. I am pretty inept with Ao3 atm.  
> @ezybreezy16  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/smilestaybreezyy


	3. Chateaus and Gargoyles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's the next installment! If you are active clexakru on tumblr/twitter, go check out what we can do to stop t1OO from getting away with all of their triggering stuff (without warnings) and what the next steps are with the upcoming hiatus.
> 
> I do not watch live anymore, but I heard there was a lot of disturbing shit last night. So please, take this chapter (from me to you) and enjoy this stupid fluff.
> 
> Regarding the story, I realized I never inputted Lexa/Gustus' owl name in ch2, so I fixed that. (It's Delta, if you're curious) -- I do not have a beta, so please forgive me if there are mistakes here and there.
> 
> Above all, enjoy!

_“The only way that we can live, is if we grow. The only way that we can grow is if we change. The only way that we can change is if we learn. The only way we can learn is if we are exposed. And the only way that we can become exposed is if we throw ourselves out into the open. Do it. Throw yourself.”_

 

― C. JoyBell.

If there had been any solace in Lexa’s life during these difficult few years, it was reading and acquiring knowledge about the rest of the world; Newham was a mere speck in the scheme of it all. Architecture, and how culture and specific environment shaped it, particularly fascinated Lexa. So when the _kru_ began the drive up to The Woods’ residence, she couldn’t help but be starkly reminded of Château de Maisons in France.

The approach to the home was lined with towering, lean birch trees, trimmed to perfection, with grassy knolls mingling with puffy clouds on the skyline in the distance. The path towards the house was linear, but the residence appeared eternities away; Lexa couldn’t imagine getting the mail every morning. Her breath was succinctly taken away once the details of the home—no chateau, were revealed. The structure stood at three stories in the frontal elevation, more longitudinally rectangular than square, but Lexa noticed it was carved into the side of a hill. She surmised if one looked from the back of the home, it would appear four stories. The architecture had old details: pilasters framed seamlessly proportioned distances between windows; each window was framed with custom designed moldings, freshly painted, and the elevations were denoted on the façade with similar details; the exterior was comprised of muted yellow stucco, swirling expertly on the surface (Lexa wished to run her hand across its crisp edges); a large mahogany door was located centrally, recessed from the façade, and directed the eye up to the mostly flat roof, an architectural anomaly for when this home was created. (She assumed the home was born in the late 19th century or meticulously mimicked later on in history.) The only pitch in the roof occurred at its centrality.

Lexa had never seen the countryside before, if she did she didn’t remember in the slightest, but found herself awestricken by its subtle, but striking, beauty.

Lincoln must have shared these sentiments as he stumbled out of the vehicle with his jaw dragging along the cobblestoned earth.

Lexa looked back to her siblings and bit back a snort; they looked so utterly out of place in their raggedy hand-me-downs and tattered clothing (herself included). Here they were, she thought, standing around the entrance of a home fit for royalty. Kids who were struggling just to have a meal last week, not to mention their less than savory living conditions and area, were here. Lexa looked to her left when she heard Soncha’s collar jingle as he went frolicking around in the grass. She shook her head and softly smiled; they were incredibly lucky to be here. She saw Anya emerge from the vehicle next, who strode towards the front doors with the regality of a queen, Ryder following closely behind her.

“Let’s go little ducklings, I hate moving things so let’s get this done quickly.” Anya announced loudly as she approached the home, but stopped before entering the home. “We will enter and climb to the third floor; choose your rooms and Ryder will see all of your belongings are placed there.” Anya clasped her hands behind her back and peered at the gangly bunch, which were still standing awestruck by the car. “Well, come on then! Hustle!” She bristled.

Anya’s sharper tone must’ve caused gears to begin moving in their brains because the four younger children immediately snapped to attention and walked briskly towards the house. Lexa looked at Gustus with an impassive face and followed suite, hands clasped behind her back. Gustus smirked as the brunette passed because, while she wouldn’t ever admit this, Lexa began picking up small mannerisms of Anya’s over the past few days. Gustus inferred the strength and confidence Anya exuded was appealing to Lexa and she found herself someone to look up to. Ryder watched these interactions and crossed his arms with a playful look; this was going to get interesting.

//

The younger portion of the _kru_ sprinted at a breakneck speed up the wooden staircase to the third floor; even Lexa and Gustus had pep in their step due to the positive energy. Lincoln was first to dive headfirst through an open doorway, tumbling forward and blocking the entrance.

“You all get your own rooms, you know? No need to worry about that.” Anya called out from behind them.

 _Silence._ Everyone stopped, turned, and stared confusedly.

“Wait,” Aden began slowly with wide eyes. “We… don’t need to share?” He finished, leaning forward.

“No, there is ample space for nearly three times the number of you.” Anya stated, surprised by the look of bewilderment spreading across their faces.

“Thank you, Anya.” Lexa whispered, head down, and hands clenched. A slight twinge of pink spread across her sharp cheekbones.

“No need to thank me… You all deserve this.” Silence once again envelopes the threshold. “Don’t get all sappy on me, you brats.” She rolls her eyes and turns to walk away.

Six sets of feet thunder down the hallway, their momentum crashing and transferring into Anya’s back and hips. She turns to find all of the _kru_ hugging her, sniffling softly and trying to communicate their gratitude. Clearly not accustomed to positive physical contact, Anya awkwardly pats them on the heads gently. Her brown eyes dart around the corridor for an escape route, only to see Ryder smirking by the stair well.

Anya lifts her hands, “ _Some help here?”_ Ryder’s smirk deepens.

“ _Nope, you have this one covered. You get to run off to Hogwarts in a few days, anyhow.”_ Ryder replies, hands articulating his thoughts.

“ _I don’t do affection, Ryder.”_ If looks could kill, Anya would have dropped him in that moment.

“ _You’re doing quite well,”_ Dark eyes shine with amusement. “ _Lunch will be ready momentarily, just tell me the rooms they choose and I’ll get the baggage up there.”_

Anya’s huff echoes down the stairwell.

//

They did not fare well their first night separated; Lexa woke up to Aden and Echo pressed against her sides and a chest full of drool. Gustus reported similar events, except he woke up on the floor and found Nyko and Lincoln sprawled out across his bed. Lexa found the silence comforting after a while; she was no longer worried about anyone breaking and entering or stray bullets from a gang meeting gone awry. No car sirens or cursing drunks in the streets, just the sound of nature filtering in her open window. Soncha seemed to really enjoy the change in scenery; he often brought back interesting pieces of woods and rocks in the evening when he crawled in through Lexa’s open window. Anya merely shook her head at their antics.

Explaining the whole witches and wizards circumstances to the _kru_ was interesting to say the least. Questions popped from every angle and Anya was _mostly_ patient; she only threatened to hex someone _once_. Anya explained she didn’t know if everyone had magical talent or if there were any _squibs_ out of the _kru_ , but she promised the family would take care of them all the same. These classifications were mainly lost on the group of children who just shrugged and took everything in stride.

However, this morning would be a challenging endeavor as it was September 1st; this would be the first time their family would be separated for an appreciable time. Today was the day Lexa and Gustus would embark on their journey to Hogwarts.

Anya woke everyone up at the crack of dawn as Ryder packed the vehicle with Lexa’s, Gustus’, and her own Hogwarts supplies. She explained they would travel to _King’s Cross Station_ in London and board the Hogwarts Express, which was located on Platform 9.

There was loud wailing, copious amounts of tears, and promises to come back on loop as hugs were exchanged. Lexa had Aden latched to her thigh as she limped through the house, trying to get everything in order and ready. He cried and screamed, afraid Lexa would forget about him or find a new family; Lexa tried to assure him the best she could but didn’t forcibly remove him from her leg. It was the least she could do.

Lexa put on her stone façade and wobbled out the door with Aden still clinging and crying; he eventually let go when the cobblestone gave him a few abrasions. The rest of the family dragged behind Lexa and Gustus, sniffling following them to the vehicle. Gustus looked like he was about to fall apart, Lexa noted. His eyes were glassy and tired looking, his hair haphazardly done, and dragging his feet slightly. Lexa sucked in a breath; _she needed to be strong._

So, Lexa did what she does best; she defiantly pushed aside her own emotions and held her chin high. Her green eyes were stoic and contemplative, her lips set in a firm line.

“Guys,” Lexa spoke, her voice level and calm. “Gustus and I will see you on breaks, all is not lost. We are not off to battle, just going to school as you all will be very shortly.” She squares her shoulders and motions towards the remaining kids. “You guys better be good and kick ass in your studies because if I find out you’re slacking I’m going to be _really_ disappointed. We do not disappoint, right?” Lexa’s green eyes connect with Aden, Echo, Lincoln, and Nyko.

“SHA, HEDA!” The kru shouts back. Lexa nods at them and opens the car door.

“Let’s go, Gustus.”

They miss absolute disbelief and surprise wash over Anya and Ryder’s faces as the two children clamber into the back of their transportation.

//

Sprinting into a brick column with all of her supplies, which one may add totals her weight and some, on a cart headfirst was not what Lexa imagined. She imagined Anya or Ryder opening a secret portal of green flames and walking through like a _badass_. Or perhaps a dirty, dingy alleyway with a dude, double the size of Ryder, checking names off a list and allowing them to proceed through some metal, heavily secured doors like they have in banks.

Lexa supposes most people don’t think to run into walls for fun, as it would probably have them either committed or arrested for questioning.

Lexa sincerely hopes Hogwarts doesn’t base things on heavily frowned upon actions in their world because right now she feels _incredibly_ obtuse as she braces for impact.

Except, it never comes.

Steam billows skywards to be blocked by the melding of glass, stone, and steel ceiling, aesthetics compliments of the Industrial Revolution, and a huge mass of children, teens, and parents are bustling across the platform. A red train, adorned with black and gold accents, is housed on the tracks, standing idle with the strength of a lion on the savannah. Lexa slows her sprint to a jog and veers off a few feet to the right and watches Anya, followed by Gustus, emerge from the brick.

“Come on, ducklings.” Anya throws her hand up and motions down the platform, “We need to drop off our luggage.”

Lexa nods, noticing a change in Anya’s demeanor. She is no longer soft edges for Lexa and Gustus, a mask of sovereignty and indifference has replaced it. Anya juts her chin high and strides forward, leaving them to scurry after her.

“What happened? Did we piss her off?” Gustus whispers harshly.

“I don’t think so,” Lexa looks around them, noticing people making way for Anya. “Stay humble, Gus. She’s done so much for us, so we stand with her. There is so much we do not know.” Lexa speaks stoically, yet strong.

“They look afraid of us.” The taller boy takes a deep breath, eyes darting to the staring faces encompassing them.

“There is a fine line between fear and respect, brother.” Lexa replies, standing taller and wiping her face clean of emotion. “Let us follow her cue for now, I do not wish to disappoint.”

“Sha.” Gustus follows Lexa’s lead, puffing out his chest and tries his damndest to look unperturbed.

Anya, who heard every word, feels herself fill with pride and smiles internally. They will make the Wood’s family proud, she thinks.

However don’t be fooled, Anya will not divulge these feelings; if revealed, they will only serve to give the two of them big, overinflated heads.

//

Two curt nods in their directions and a short “Go make friends,” and Anya is striding off, slamming the train door behind her.

The Hogwart’s Express howls as they chug along the countryside housing Lexa and Gustus and their incredulousness of their cousin’s Sink or Swim tactic. Lexa is first to shake her emotions and nudges Gustus.

“What now?” Lexa grumbles. Gustus shrugs. “Ugh, let’s find somewhere to sit.”

It takes them a solid five minutes to find one not full to the brim with occupants, but when Lexa peeks through the window of one, she still finds one occupied but not full. Out of options, Lexa knocks politely, but confidently, and opens the sliding door.

She’s greeted with a short explosion, a series of yelps, and black smoke that causes her to cough. Lexa hears Gustus’ worried voice, but can’t make out the words over the ringing in her ears. She walks towards the windows, covering her eyes and waves her hands around frantically trying to disperse some of the smoke, before finding the latch and pushing the window outward. It takes a minute or so for the smoke to filter out the window before Lexa can identify the situation.

A girl her age sits cross-legged with a wide smile, face full of soot and hair blown back viciously. Lexa thinks the girl’s skin is tanner than her own and has dark, wavy hair, but can’t be certain due to the mishap. She is holding a wand in one hand and an _engine?_ in the other. A scrawny boy sits next to her; half of his face is blackened with floppy hair flying all around. His brown eyes are huge and it looks like he hasn’t moved since the explosion went off.

“HOLY CRAP THAT WAS AWESOME!” The girl with the wand shrieks with a wide grin. “I mean, I didn’t get it to work, but who cares. Another hypothesis down.” She sets the metallic hunk down and looks up, locking with eyes born from the forest. “Who are you?” She stands and puts her hands on her hips.

“Alexandria Woods, you may call me Lexa.” Lexa says slowly with a cautious expression, “This is my brother, Gustus.” She extends her head backwards slightly, nodding at the anxiety-induced mute of a boy behind her. Lexa fixes the mussed girl with an intimidating look. “Who are you and… what did you do?”

“Raven Reyes, nice to meet you.” Raven smirks with dark eyes shining, “This is Finn, don’t mind him he’s a big baby. Basically my brother, we were born on the same day, same hospital, same hood. So y’know, naturally we’d be besties.” She looks proud of these facts.

“Why’d you try and blow him up, then?” Gustus speaks up, arms crossed and wary.

“I was trying to enchant this motor.” Raven says matter-of-factly, rolling her eyes. “Our parents are muggles, and my old man is a mechanic, so I really got into it, too. Imagine if I could make an automatic car? In the sense it’s totally automated, no operator necessary. Magically alter each part of the vehicle and then make an operating system to rule it all, sort’ve like a feedback syste—“ Raven spews out words excitedly.

“Here we go,” Finn speaks up, trying to clean face and hair. “Ray, they don’t care.”

“—It’s interesting, I’m not well versed in the studies of chemical engineering or magic so I cannot aid you in your hypothesis development.” Lexa explains, earning a head tilt from Raven.

“Do you always speak so formally?” Raven inquires, eyebrow perked.

“I do not know what you mean.” Lexa balks.

“Yes, she does. Lex reads way too many old school novels and plays, so it’s not surprising it leaks into her daily vocab.” Gustus chuckles, Lexa growls slightly.

“Shop of.” Lexa smacks him upside the head.

“Oh, I like you.” Raven takes a step forward and pulls Lexa in. “We’re going to be friends, I tell ya.”

“Oh?” Lexa looks at the offending appendage on her shoulder, “Who says I want to be friends with you?” Raven throws her head back with a laugh.

“Trust me, Commander Hard Ass.” Raven pushes Lexa down on the seat. “I’m good with these things,” She plops down next to Lexa. “Besides, I’m super awesome. Why wouldn’t you want to be?”

“Ugh, Ray…” Finn grumbles and puts his head in his hands.

“I’ll bite,” Gustus sits next to Finn and recrosses his arms. “Where you two from, anyways?” Lexa looks at Gustus curiously; he’s not usually the type to initiate a conversation.

“The Bronx.” Lexa and Gustus squint at the firecracker reincarnate. “…New York?” Looks of realization dawn on the siblings’ faces.   _That explains the weird accent._

“Wait, how did you even get here?” Lexa inquisitively asks, she read in a newspaper a while back about the insane costs of flying across the Atlantic.

“Courtesy of Headmaster Kane,” Raven holds her hands up, _behold_ , the gesture screams. “I’m guessing because we are so poor, we get some sort of financial assistance.” She snorts; Finn shoots her a disapproving glare.

“Judging by your tailored robes and fancy boots, I’d bet you have no clue what that actually me—“

“I would not be so quick to judge a book by it’s cover, Reyes.” Lexa stands, sharply cutting Raven off, and glowers down at the Latina.

“Lex…” Gustus stands, eyes worriedly looking between the two.

“Feisty! I love it.” Raven breaks the intense eye contact and stands next to Lexa. “Don’t be so serious, Woods.” She smirks, patting Lexa on the cheek. “Let’s go walk around and see what idiots we will be graced with this semester.”

The dark-eyed girl walks away with her hands on her head, humming an odd melody. Lexa swishes her lips around, shakes off the energy humming in her muscles, and catches the sliding door as Raven lets it go. Still in the compartment, Gustus and Finn exchange worried glances.

What these two young girls don’t know, their meeting was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, one that would be written about for centuries to come.

//

Lexa followed closely alongside Raven as they traversed through multiple carts, listening to her explain random trivia, and tidbits about Hogwarts. Lexa began noticing different designs and shades of robes, not everyone wore the green and silver like Anya. In fact, there were differences in crests on the upper-right edge of their robes.

“Why isn’t everyone wearing the same thing?” Lexa looked over to Raven, who was a few inches shorter than her.

“What do you mean?” Raven looks over, slight confusion adorning her face.

“Well, my cousin wears green and silver. There’s a snake on her chest. But that kid,” She points slightly to her left, “Is wearing red and gold, and there’s a lion?”

“Oh! There are different houses inside Hogwarts. We are sorted by the Sorting Hat once we arrive, but the jist of it is that there’s four of em: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.” Raven explains, pointing out the different uniforms when they come into view.

“Oh, I remember Anya mentioning she’s a beater for Slytherin. I did not connect the dots.” Lexa examines everyone thoughtfully.

“Your cousin plays Quidditch?!” Raven bounces in front of Lexa, impeding further motion.

“Yes?” Lexa gives her a what’s-the-big-deal look, pursing her lips.

“That’s so cool! We can’t play as first years…” She looks slightly dejected and Lexa knows exactly how she feels.

“I know, I’m sad about it, too. I want to be a Beater with my cousin and prove myself.” Lexa blushes at her admission, but Raven looks proud.

“I want to be a Keeper. I can see everything going on from my spot. Let’s work hard to get there, huh?” Raven holds out her fist, waiting for Lexa. “Com’on, pound it!”

Lexa’s eyes widen slightly as she looks taken aback. Raven grabs Lexa’s wrist and pulls it parallel with her shoulder, before smacking their knuckles together.

“That’s what “pound it” means.” Raven laughs slightly.

“It’s odd.” Lexa still looks a little perplexed.

“You’ll get the hang of it.” Raven chirps, beginning to walk towards a large group of people. Lexa thinks they all look around her age, but she cannot be certain. They’re all talking animatedly and laughing.

“—So Griff, I hear your dad’s got himself front seat tickets to the Caerphilly Catapults this season for leading the innovation of their stadium’s defense system?” A boy with greasy hair ending at his mid-neck asks in a faux-bored fashion.

“Shut up, Murphy.” A boy with shaggy brown hair that covers his forehead, leaving his deep brown eyes visible says hoarsely. Everyone laughs at this.

“The defense system really interesting though, don’t you think?” A dark-skinned boy asks, Lexa can’t see his face, only his back.

“He’s proud of it,” A girl’s voice answers, “The Ministry of Magic is super pleased. So yeah, I guess.” Lexa sees her shoulders lift in a bashful manner. “But, hey, we’re probably going to be arriving soon…” The voice trails off. Lexa finds the sound oddly comforting.

“Lex, come on. What’s up?” Raven smacks her forearm, snapping Lexa out of her daze.

“Sorry, I just thought I knew someone…” Lexa shakes her head slightly, “Let’s get back and see what the two boys are up to?” She asks, face once again impassive.

“Meh, you’re more interesting, but yeah.” Lexa blushes at this slightly and to her horror, Raven smirks evilly at its appearance. “What’s wrong, Woods? Cat got your tongue?”

“Don’t be a fool, Raven.” Lexa turns on her heel and begins her walk back to the cabin.

“You’re way too easy, Woods.” Raven chuckles while following her.

//

Anya waits for them as they de-board the train, arms crossed and face screwed up in her signature scowl. Tonight the moonlight creates an intense contrast on her features, harshening her cheekbones and furrow, silvering her dark, blonde hair, which lays braided on her shoulder. Lexa thinks the moonlight fits her well; she can only hope to be as strong as Anya one day. Raven tumbles out behind Lexa with Gustus.

“Finally, you guys are so slow.” Anya seems exasperated.

“Raven, this is my cousin  Anya Woods. She’s a fourth year.” Lexa motions towards her, watching as Raven’s eyes widen ever so slightly and she swore she saw Raven’s entire face get dark with red. _It’s probably just a shadow_ , she thinks and forgets about it. Anya merely nods.

“’Sup?” Raven gives her a half smirk. “Raven Reyes at your service!”

“Quaint.” Anya replies in a seemingly flat affect. “I’m glad you networked some, Alexandria. Your bags will be dealt with, ready to get to the castle?”

“Castle?” Lexa narrows her eyes.

“The school adopted a Gothic architectural aesthetic. Flying buttresses, pointed arches, gargoyles—“

“Yes, yes, yes. I know all about 12th century gothic architecture, thank you.” She waved off Anya’s bored explanation. Lexa thought the ornate and opulent lifestyle would be over once she left the Woods’ Residence, never in a million years did she think she’d be nose deep inside her beloved history books.

“You’re totally a nerd too, huh?” Raven slaps her on the back causing Lexa to cough.

“Whatever.” Lexa pouts at their teasing. She was a badass leader, not a hermit who revels in idleness and cowardice.

“Alexandria and Gustus, we older students will be boarding the carriages which carry us the rest of the way. You will be taking the boats...” Anya’s mask falls slightly, Lexa notices. She seems apprehensive. “There are things that may surprise you, please direct your questions towards me, _quietly_ , if they arise.” Anya advises cryptically.

“Okay,” Gustus replies without a thought, Lexa finds the comment to be more aligned with a warning. Anya walked off and pointed towards where the first years would be lining up and taking the boats across the Black Lake.

Some time passes as they talk animatedly amongst one another, and as the line of students diminishes a bit for where Anya went, Lexa is immediately alerted towards what Anya meant; she tugs at Gustus’ sweater.

“Gus, what in the world is that?” Lexa’s voice comes out shakily, like nothing Gustus has ever heard before, which causes him to turn and look at her.

“Magic carriages, I suppose. Not surprising considering this is a _magical_ school, Lex.” He sniggers at her antics. “Since when are you scared of anything?” He teases lightly, his eyes dark in the moonlight, refocusing his attention on whatever Finn was babbling about.

Lexa gapes at him dubiously because _what the bloody hell_ , the carriages aren’t magically moving, but freaking _dragon-horse chimeras_ , or something, are pulling them. They’re obviously harmless because not once has turned and mauled someone, but she doesn’t know why other first years aren’t pointing fingers or talking about them. Surely she isn’t the _only_ kid from a non-magical fam—

“Hm, I’m sorry. I was hoping you would not be able to see them.” Anya comes up behind Lexa and places her hand on her shoulder and holds up a book in her hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you. I forgot my book on the train…They’re called Thestrals.” Lexa studies their spiny bodies and tucked back wings, she wonders how wide they could spread if necessary.

“Why can’t the others see it? They only see a carriage.” Lexa wonders, looking at its snout and empty eyes, grey wispy hairs floating carelessly with the wind.

“It seems no one else has seen death,” Anya pauses, her hand squeezing Lexa’s shoulder. “Apparently, you have experienced it.”

“I don’t recall seeing a death first hand…” Lexa’s voice breaks slightly.

“That’s probably for the best, Alexandria.” Anya’s voice grates against her chest, clashing against the hammering of her heart swallowing her hearing. Lexa swallows a few times and clenches her jaw, rooted to the ground in front of her. While Anya did not say it, Lexa knows and her stomach rolls at the thought.

The probability she witnessed the brutal massacre of her parents is exceedingly high and, somehow, she survived the aftermath.

Lexa empties her lunch in a nearby bush.

//

When it was announced the first years would split off from the rest of the students and board the boats, Anya waved slightly and bunched up with what Lexa imagined were her friends (who were all notably dressed in green and silver garb). Lexa watched her black robes billow out and followed her motion until her dirty blonde hair was no longer visible. Raven poked her on the hip when it was time to move on.

Raven must have noticed Lexa’s muddied mood, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she sticks close to Lexa and comments on the historical advancements flying buttresses made on engineering during the early centuries. Lexa mutely nods and acknowledges the high ceilings adorned with height-shattering windows, micro and macro scale details carved into moldings, columns, and statues. Gustus and Finn are discussing the potential hiding places the multiple niches must hold, how easy it could be to scare someone or place a booby trap. Lexa rolls her eyes at their immaturity.

A _precinct? Pref…PREFECT!_ Was droning on about the Sorting Hat Ceremony as he led them through the stone-clad corridors; Lexa did not like his clammy looking skin and rambling thought process. Lexa liked confidence and directness, those traits demanded respect. The sweaty boy rambled about meeting with Headmistress Indra, the Head of Ravenclaw, who would initiate the Sorting Ceremony.

Lexa heard metal clanging in the distance, it was well timed to a pace, and figure emerged on top of the stairs they stood below.

“Welcome, First-Years…” A rough voice echoed throughout the corridors. Lexa pushed Gustus aside to see the voice more clearly. “…To Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

There stood a woman, staring down at everyone menacingly, with tattoos and scars littering her dark skin. Her curly hair was buzzed short, eyebrows furrowed in a grimace, and eyes dark as the night continued to unblinkingly assess the newcomers. A mustardy-yellow, stiff looking shirt extended to just below her jaw, before being tucked inside a dark navy trouser. A dark navy robe with embossed a feathery pattern completed the ensemble.

“My name is Professor Trikru, head of Ravenclaw. As you all have heard, it is time to be sorted. This is a Hogwarts tradition dating back for millennia. Each of you will wear the Sorting Hat, and it will decide which house you will enter: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. You will live with your house, collaborate with your house, and compete against the other houses yearly. Now, line up single-file and follow me beyond these doors; we will explain more shortly.” Professor Trikru announced.

“Scaaa-ry!” A voice to her left shakily exhaled, startling Lexa slightly. A slight Asian boy stood there with wide eyes, Lexa saw something light up behind Raven’s eyes and smelled trouble.

“Aw, you’re so adorable. Pint sized.” Raven loops her arm around his neck and drags him into their circle. “What’s yer name, chicklet?”

“Monty, Monty Green.” Jet-black hair swoops over his forehead as he nervously speaks. “Where you guys think you’re going to be sorted? Professor Trikru looks hardcore.”

“Ravenclaw, duh.”

“Me, too.” Monty smiles. “My whole family has been either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.”

“Me and Finn are muggle-born, no legacy here.” Raven shrugs haphazardly, walking slowly with the flow of the crowd. “What were your parents, Lexa?”

Lexa opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. What does she say? She’s only realized she’s had family for less than a month? That she doesn’t even know her own parents’ names let alone their sorted houses—heck, did they both even attend Hogwarts? Emerald eyes drift over to familiar hazelnut ones, pleading with her brother for a semblance of how to deal with this. Gustus’ face is uncomfortably scrunched up, like he decided to eat something sour; obviously no assistance was coming from him. What else is new?

Luckily her inner monologue is cut off and expectations for an answer are forgotten as they traverse through the threshold, placing them inside a grand dining hall. Four tables are lined up, parallel with one another, with current students littering the benches. Lexa searches for Anya, but cannot find her in the mass thrush of people.

“Welcome to Hogwarts! For those of you who do not know me, I am Marcus Kane, the Headmaster here at Hogwarts.” Arms extend from a middle-aged man, salt and pepper hair curling around his jawline and ears, with a scruffy beard similar in color. His demeanor is jovial and welcoming and reminded Lexa of Christmas morning before…nevermind.

“Returning students, I hope this year is remarkable and furthers your desires to learn and excel in our world. New students, I expect your journey was comfortable and allowed you to meet some new friends before this year begins! Now, before we start the Feast, let us sort our young students!” Marcus bellows, raising a goblet at the groans resonate from previous students. “Now, now… you all know how this goes, don’t act surprised. Professor Jaha, please begin!”

An ebony skinned male, cloaked in a deep maroon and gold set of robes, stands and clears his throat. He assess the crowd of First Years as he pulls out a ragged, burlap hat. It reminded Lexa of an old witch’s hat; pointed tip and a generous diameter brim. Who would want to wear that?

“Finn Collins!” Professor Jaha reads from a scroll, undoubtedly holding everyone’s names. Professor Trikru places a small wooden stool near Jaha and Finn stumbles out from the crowd. He looks around unsure of what he is supposed to do.

“Please sit, Mr. Collins.” Jaha gently asks, gesturing towards the small stool. “I will place the Sorting Hat on your head once you are ready.”

Finn digs his teeth into his bottom lip and acquiesces, plopping promptly down on the stool.

“AH! My first decision of the year!” The hat exclaims, its expression dancing excitedly ontop of Finn’s head. Lexa nearly falls over at the action; she didn’t think the Sorting Hat was actually a cognizant being! “Mr. Collins, my first student in a decade has coincidentally gone to the same house! Do you think you can keep the count going? Loyal, honest, patient, yes. Yes, I do think so… HUFFLEPUFF!”

The Hufflepuff table erupts in a roar, clapping and encouraging Finn to their table. Jaha takes the hat off Finn’s head and gives him a gentle shove over to his decided House’s table.

Now this event goes on for quite some time, students being chosen at a seemingly random order. Lexa notices the grimy, obnoxious boy getting sorted into Slytherin, and the cordial boy into Gryffindor. The lithe Asian boy, Monty she thinks, was sorted into Ravenclaw. His face shone brightly; obviously pleased he continued his family’s legacy. Many other faces sit and go, none of which Lexa has any connection to, so naturally she becomes slightly bored.

That is, until Gustus is called up.

“Gustus Woods! Please come on up!” Professor Jaha exclaims, bright teeth exposed in a smile.

Gustus takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and pushes through the remaining students. He squares his shoulders and nods at Professor Jaha and turns to sit down on the chair. (Jaha seems to be biting back a chuckle at Gustus’ seriousness.)

“A Woods? It has been much longer than I predicted! My boy, you remind me of your father! Determined, yes. You’ve fought against strife admirably, aided your family diligently.” Gustus squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his hands on his knees. “Resourceful, too and not afraid to know when to call it quits. You shall continue your family’s legacy at…SLYTHERIN!” The Sorting Hat nearly jumps off Gustus’ head with its energy. Gustus looks teary eyed as he stands and runs off towards the Slytherin table, whose students are clapping loudly.

“Settle down, settle down. Thank you… Next is Raven Reyes!”

Raven jumps up and throws her fist in the air, allowing a small “Yes!” to escape from her lips. Her thick ponytail whips back and forth as she struts up to the chair.

“Let’s get the ball rollin’, Pops!” She says, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands ontop. Jaha seems to mutter something under his breath as he drops the hat on Raven’s head, covering her eyesight momentarily.

“Ay, I can’t see!” She yelps.

“Now, now, child. Hush up, let me listen to your mind. Aren’t you an inquisitive one? Trying to create an automated Muggle vehicle without any training, HA! Very close, too!” Raven grumbles over his monologue. “Got a tongue too, eh? Yes, you’re going to go on and do great things, I promise you this.” The Sorting Hat hums in thought. “It’s really quite obvious: RAVENCLAW!”

Lexa claps with the remainder of the unsorted students as Raven skips off. There are only a few of them left at this point, Lexa realizes as she scans the area. She recognizes the boy with shaggy brown hair from the train and he’s standing next to a blonde girl. A slow sense of realization and curiosity dawns upon Lexa, crawling up her spine, and she begins walking towards the duo. She reaches out to tap her on the should—

“Clarke Griffin!” The girl jolts slightly and Lexa pulls her hand back slowly as Clarke begins her walk up to the podium. Lexa huffs out a puff of hair and slumps slightly; she’s never going to get a proper second with Clarke.

Lexa follows Clarke with her eyes, noticing her sunshine locks flowing over her shoulders, a small smile gracing her pink lips as she sits. Clarke looks up as the burlap hat encompasses her skull, feeling him already beginning to move and think.

“Clarke Griffin, how interesting! I vividly remember your father in Gryffindor, head always in the clouds on that blasted broomstick.” Clarke giggles at the thought. “The creativity and ambition was certainly passed onto you from him, no doubt! However, I see you are exceedingly loyal, encouraged by mystery and depth…Strength and desire to alter this world and not afraid of the lengths necessary to induce such. Yes, Ms. Griffin, you are your father’s child,” Clarke positively glows with happiness at this point, Lexa wonders if Michael Angelo felt this way as he painted the 16th Chapel. “but, you are your own… in SLYTHERIN!”

Sky-born eyes do not disappoint in revealing her emotions: confusion, denial, anger… emptiness, and then acceptance follows harshly. Clarke grins suddenly (it doesn’t reach her eyes, Lexa notes) and she gets up, thanks Professor Jaha, and walks over to the Slytherin table.  She sits at the front of the table and Lexa watches her introduce herself to a few other students nearby.

“ALEXANDRIA WOODS!”

Lexa freezes, they didn’t make a mistake and she actually is going to be sorted. Her blood whizzes in her ears accompanied by the rapid thudding of her heart. Her esophagus is the Sahara reincarnate and she swears eating those magical pop rocks must’ve caused abrasions all the way down.

“Come now, Alexandria.” Lexa jars alive at the loud voice, its sound reverberating in her chest, clashing against her heart. _Be strong, you need to be strong._ She chants in her head as she shakily walks.

Lexa didn’t realize how nervous she was going to be, how big of a decision this ultimately will be. Based on Gustus’ sorting, it seems the Woods family has a reputation for being Slytherins… What if she can’t cut it? What happens if she’s in another House and she never sees Gustus or Anya until Winter Break? There has to be some sort of appointed hearing she can get to appeal her House, because obviously the Hat would be wrong.

“Sit down, please.” Jaha hums, holding the yapping Sorting Hat. Green eyes widen a fraction as a blush snakes its way up her neck.

“Sorry,” Lexa says hoarsely and feels the Hat cover her ears entirely; now her heartbeat is echoing around the inside of the hat. _Great_ , she thinks.

“TWO FIRST YEARS FROM THE WOODS FAMILY?!” The Hat screeches excitedly. “What a pleasure!” Lexa clutches her eyes shut at his voice. “Don’t be shy, it is not in your nature,” Lexa peaks an eye open, hesitancy slowly melting away. “Hmm.”

 _Slytherin, slytherin, slytherin._ Lexa thinks, imagining her family and how she wishes to make them proud.

 _“Slytherin, eh? You don’t have to be in Slytherin to be great, Alexandria.”_ The Hat’s voice bounces around her conscious.

 _“I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone for too long.”_ Lexa whimpers back.

 _“But, what if there are greater opportunities for you elsewhere?”_ The Hat inquires.

 _“I am nothing without my people.”_ Lexa states defiantly.

 _“You are wrong, Alexandria. I see a genius in you, a gentle soul, and a natural born leader. You’d be good in Slytherin, but...”_ A deep grumble of thought his expressed. _“You aspire for knowledge and acceptance; creativity for the greater good; selfless.”_

_“Can’t I be all of those things in Slytherin?”_

_“Answer me this, if there was a Muggle with a gun pointed at you and five other people. They tell you if you run away, you will be safe, but the others will die. Or you can sacrifice yourself by attacking them, allowing for a distraction for the others to escape, but are killed in the process. What would you do?”_

_“I would not do either scenario.”_

_“Oh, do tell.”_

_“I would use my magic and wit to disarm the individual. No one gets hurt.”_

_“AHA! See?”_

_“They do not deserve to die, what is there to see?”_ Lexa asks densely.

_“Your answer clearly differentiates you from your desired and appropriate house.”_

_“I thought Brotherhood is exemplified in Slytherin?”_

_“Indeed, but your loyalty extends far beyond and branches into selflessness. A trait most Slytherin’s do not possess.”_

_“You are insufferable.”_

_“Why do you read about the world and its history?”_

_“To escape the harsh reality of my own world.”_ Lexa bites back.

_“Do you do it as a chore?”_

_“No, learning is the only way to further oneself. I acquire as much knowledge as I can so if I am ever faced with difficult decisions, I am equipped with as much background as possible to make the best decision possible.”_ Lexa heatedly explains; she feels aggravation nestling into the nape of her neck.

_“Thank you, your rhetoric has enlightened me. My decision has been made.”_

Lexa snaps her eyes open at this and straight ahead. _Blue._

Clarke is examining her curiously, azure eyes soft and searching, a calming half smile. Lexa can’t help but smile back at her.

“RAVENCLAWWWW!”

//

Anya finds Lexa later and pats her on the head affectionately out of the sight of her peers. She tells her in a quiet voice that she is pleased on Lexa’s placement and is looking forward to seeing her growth as a witch.

Lexa doesn’t find out until she sits down with Raven that she experienced something called a “Hat-Stall.” Apparently, she sat there mute for over ten minutes as the Sorting Hat juggled with where to put her. Raven informed Lexa that a Fourth Year told Raven there hasn’t been a hat stall in a few years and Lexa was one of the longest times to be stalled on record; Lexa chortled at this new information.

At least she gave that damn raggedy potato sack a run for its money.

 

//

_Anya, Lexa, and Soncha in Newham._


	4. Aggressive Tactics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, THE BILLBOARDS ARE UP! Go check them out on tumblr!  
> This is HUGE, so in commemoration of these huge feats, have a chapter!  
> ENJOY Y'ALL  
> [also, be wary of the finale. Stay safe above all, guys. I respect your opinions on if you watch or not, but be careful![

_“Sometimes the best and worst times of your life can coincide. It is a talent of the soul to discover the joy in pain—-thinking of moments you long for, and knowing you’ll never have them again. The beautiful ghosts of our past haunt us, and yet we still can’t decide if the pain they caused us out weighs the tender moments when they touched our soul. This is the irony of love.”_

― Shannon L. Alder

Soft morning light streams through the cracks of slate colored drapes, tickling the bared skin of the bedroom’s occupants. One of the beds houses a lump burrowed underneath their comforters and pillows, two more are empty, and a final one covered in books and parchment complete with hushed bickering.

“It says right here, Raven. The International Statute of Secrecy caused a coalition of wizards in particular areas,” Lexa pointed feverishly at her A History of Magic textbook. “Godric Gryffindor was born into one of these communities; Godric’s Hollow.”

“You’re telling me all wizards live in these places? Please.” Raven flipped a few pages forward. “Look, some live double lives.”

“At the expense of their integrity,” Lexa hush-shrieked at her, “it is not and was not of the norm!”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, _Alexandria_.” Chuckling with a devious smirk, Raven looked up from her book. Lexa contemplated smacking her upside the head. “You have to admit, this stuff is pretty interesting compared to the mess of the muggle world.”

Lexa thought about this briefly, head tilting back and forth, before finally nodding.

“I think it’s interesting to us because of its novelty and lack of precedent in our lives.” Raven raises her eyebrows at Lexa’s vernacular. “Sorry.” Lexa’s ears twinge red. “I mean--”

“--You’re right, though. I mean some people here go cray over Muggle studies. Can you imagine what they’d be like if we showed them an iPod?” Lexa ducked her head and hid a smile. She wouldn’t let Raven know this (it would only make the Latina increasingly more insufferable), but she was so thankful to have someone equally, if not more than, intellectually involved and curious about the world.

“Okay, this may be an dumb question but… How do they listen to music?” She casts a quick side-glance in Raven’s direction.

“Probably charm some instruments?” Raven nonchalantly shrugs and continues through the chapter. “Maybe they force the poor House Elves to perform…” She waggles her eyebrows.

“We’ll have to ask Monty later.” Lexa concludes, returning her attention to the textbook.

Their first week had gone by relatively well, other than the fact of Lexa and Raven finding themselves floundering when it came to magical culture; they were not pleased with their inadequacies. Hence the two sprawled across the tiny twin-sized bed in the early morning, scrutinizing and learning little bits and pieces of magical history. They luckily had Monty to run to whenever the books could not explain the world adequately. The lithe Asian had a tendency to include a plethora of extra information when asked these questions and never judged them for their ignorance.

Pounding on the door removes Lexa from her reverie.

“Guys, you’re going to be late for breakfast. Remember, we have our first Potions class after.” Monty’s voice travels through the heavy oak.

Speak of the devil, she thinks.

“Cheezits!” Books are slammed shut and blankets fly off the bed. “We need to get dressed!” Raven is haphazardly throwing her clothes off and scavenging for her robes.

“ _We_ do not need the get dressed. I warned you earlier to do it then so we could up and go.” Lexa scolds lightly, packing her satchel with the required texts and materials.

“Where’s my boots?” Lexa swings her satchel onto her shoulder and looks in Raven’s direction. She rolls her eyes at Raven’s disheveled appearance.

“For the love of… come here, Ray.” Raven pouts defiantly, beginning to mope about her lost boots. “Your tie…” Lexa pulls her in by the lapels of her robe and begins re-doing a half Windsor for her the brunette. “…is a mess.”

“I’ve never learned, Commander.” Dark orbs shift to the side and a jaw clenches; an attempt to dissipate her feelings of inadequacy.

“I just learned a few weeks back, if it makes you feel better.” Sun-kissed lips lift in a half smirk and green eyes analyzing the final product. “Anya brought me to be fitted for formal clothing.” Raven readjusts her gaze, intrigued. “I much preferred the suits over dresses. Is that odd?”

“I don’t think so. You’d look good in a suit. Damn Woods’ genes make you guys look all confident as hell. You’d command a room, I’d bet.” Raven thinks out loud. Lexa flushes at this.

“Pft. Anya, yes.” Lexa dismisses while stepping back and beginning towards the door. “I, on the other hand, have much to learn.”

“Humble little shit.” Raven grunts, finding her last boot adjacent to an end table. “Whatevs. Let’s go get our eat on. All of that arguing and winning has made me hungry.”

Lexa suddenly has another temptation to whop Raven; she finds it unfortunate the girl is already running away.

The duo finds Monty waiting for them anxiously in the Common Room; he visibly relaxes once he catches sight of them hurriedly walking in his direction.

“Finally. We’re only going to have half an hour, if we are lucky.” He exasperatedly states, running his hand through his bangs.

“Thirty minutes? There’s plenty of time, short-stack.” Raven pats him on the head as she bristles forward.

“Ignore her. She’s feeling quite high and mighty this morning.” Lexa readjusts her pack and shrugs. “Just put her in her place during Potions. It’ll quiet her for a few days.” She gravely looks back at Monty as she passes him, “However, if the opposite occurs… I bid you good luck.”

Monty cringes and hops a few steps to fall in-line with her stride; obviously the thought was just as unappealing to him.

“Did you read the first chapter for Potions?” He asks as they begin their descent from the Ravenclaw tower.

“Briefly.” She leans up against the stone railing and looks up in thought as the stairs shift their orientations, “Potions seems like a subject where learning little things as you go, mainly due to freelancing and deviation, will allow you to become adept. I imagine following a recipe, as outlined in these textbooks, will only get you so far.” Monty looks at her curiously.

“Why do you say that?”

“How many ways do you know how to make Bangers and Mash?” She fires back, arching an eyebrow for good measure.

“Well, my mum makes it, so none.” Monty purses his lips; Lexa rolls her eyes as a retort.

“There are hundreds of ways, none perhaps better than one another, but definitively there is a more common way.” Lexa shoulders her strap, indicating to the books inside the bag. “The common way would be the textbook, but when you make something hundreds of times you learn peculiar characteristics of the ingredients and how to handle them better to your needs.”

“That’s a decent analogy, Woods.” Raven pipes in from a separate staircase portion she rushed onto.

“I try.”

“Obviously.” Raven finds her nails incredibly fascinating and blows on them slightly. “Unlike me, you’re clearly not a natural.”

“You’re begging to get your arse handed to you this morning, Reyes.”

“Oooh, I am shaking in my boots!” She sticks her tongue out at Lexa, but is jostled by the stairs connecting to its destination and causes her to slam into the railing. “Ow.”

“Serves you right,” Lexa waves at Raven and steps off, “Looks like you took the wrong staircase today; see you at half past.” She folds her hands behind her back and strides towards the kitchen. Monty snorts in response; he is quickly hushed by Raven’s animalistic growling in his direction.

His face unnaturally pales and quickly hustles off in Lexa’s direction.

He’s made two rules so far this semester: one, don’t get into pissing matches with Lexa because she’ll find _any_ way to win; two, don’t bruise Raven’s ego (she’ll leave presents that may or may not cause mortal injury if improperly handled.)

//

Lexa has finished her tea and poached eggs by the time Raven finally sat down at the Ravenclaw table.

She’s also located Clarke Griffin, who is seated three individuals in from an edge portion of a table, one-third distance from the entry door. Her hair is braided and looped around her ear today, keeping stray locks from falling freely into her eyes. (Slytherin green and silver looks good on her, Lexa thinks).

Of course, none of this information is privy to anyone but herself. She thinks her fascination with Clarke must be borderline insane; she cannot fathom why she feels such a connection. Lexa quickly swallows her thoughts to avoid that rabbit hole. _Not today, Satan._

Instead, she opts to push Raven’s patience a bit further.

“How was the walk? Not too far, I hope.” Lexa chews the edge of her remaining toast, eyes affixed indifferently on her Potions text.  She’d heard a Hufflepuff on Tuesday talking about an _Occulus Potion_ as their final potions assignment in Year One. It appeared straightforward enough…

“It dropped me off near the Music room on the fifth floor, actually.” Raven shovels scrambled eggs on top of jellied toast. She sees Monty grimace at the combination in her combination. “It was easy enough to meander back around.” Raven stares at Lexa in challenge as she chomps down on her concoction.

“I am glad you’ve made it back in one piece, then.” She smirks, never looking up from her book. “We have four minutes before we need to leave. Do hurry.”

Lexa gets a small sense of satisfaction when the only sound she hears is Raven chewing with her mouth open. Two other first years sitting next to Raven nervously shuffle food on their plates; they think there’s no way she’s going down without swinging.

“ _Alexandria,”_ A shadow appears over the recipe for the _Occulus Potion_ , drawing Lexa from her readings. She tilts her head up to find the smooth voice belonging to Anya.

“Good morning, Anya.” Lexa tilts her head down cordially. Raven plops her jaw down on her palm and smirks at the dirty blonde Fourth year.

“Fancy seeing you here, Anya.” Raven drawls, “You miss me?” She bats her eyelashes for good measure.

“Ms. Reyes, a pleasure as usual.” Anya’s face is covert with a level tone. However, the slight annoyance mixed with intrigue is apparent in her hazelnut eyes. “I’ve come to inform you about your Potions class.”

“You’re going to share tips and details?” Lexa sits up a bit straighter; Anya merely _hmphs_.

“Don’t make me say things twice, _Alexandria._ ” Anya crosses her arms and furrows her brow. “You will exceed these course standards on your own merit, not by the aid of those above you.” Lexa’s shoulders sag at the disappointed tone.

“I apologize,” She mutters.

“It is fine.” Anya turns her head off to the side, seemingly uninterested. “Anyway, I’ve come to give you a heads up. You’ll be attending your Potions course with Slytherins.”

“Gustus?!” Lexa’s eyes light up. She hasn’t had much time with her brother; it wasn’t like there was a Common, common room. She scratches her head at this; perhaps she’ll propose this in the future. _To promote cross-house camaraderie and collaboration,_ she thinks. Perfect pitch.

“And Clarke.” Anya’s face no longer is nondescript. Rather, it looks very much mischievous and sinister. Lexa bites back a shiver and schools her features. (Unfortunately for her, Raven already noticed her brief slack jawed and red-faced appearance)

“I see.” Lexa stands from her place on the bench and gathers up her supplies. “Thank you for the information, Anya. I will do the family proud this year.” She treads off towards the dungeons.

“Oh, this is juicy drama right here. I know it when I see it!” Raven slides her supplies off the edge of the table, effectively dumping them into her bag, and throws in a few muffins for good measure. “Thanks for the tip, Elder Woods.” Raven gestures a grand bow, not taking her eyes or devious smile off of Anya, before trotting after Lexa.

Anya leaves the Ravenclaw table with a menacing glare and robes flowing gracefully behind her, _daring_ the remainder of the lot to test her patience (she’s very much satisfied when they quake in fear before dashing off after the two brunettes).

Unfortunately, Lexa doesn’t get the satisfaction of getting to Potions before Raven’s caught up with her.

“Clarke, huh?” Raven ducks down while walking sideways, attempting to catch the green-eyed girl’s gaze. “Who’s he?”

“I haven't a clue who you are referring to.” Lexa juts her chin a little higher, increasing her pace ever so slightly. The staircase is approximately twenty meters, the classroom a little over fifty meters away. If she derails this conversation long enou—

“Your face indicated otherwise.” Raven nearly sings this, “Before and even now. You can’t lie to this face!” Lexa rolls her eyes so fiercely and indignantly, the brunette opposite wonders if they’d get stuck behind her skull.

“You have no clue what you’re talking about,” Lexa rotates her body so she’s parallel to Raven.

“Then why are you being so elusive?” Raven pokes at her playfully; she thinks she’s close to breaking the stubbornness. Just a few more well aimed jabs…

“I am not being elus—“

_CRASH_

For someone who has been initiating stealth missions for over two years and has been trained in martial arts for several years more, one would think she’d be more graceful and less clumsy. Lexa’s left shoulder collides with something soft, yet not pliant, and emits a soft yelp. She staggers backwards and, in the process, searches for the offending obstacle.

_Blue._

Her first thought process is entirely blank; her second however, questions why she must appear to be such a bumbling, incompetent fool in front of Clarke Griffin. Third, why does she always _run,_ quite literally, into the blonde instead of merely exchanging pleasantries from a couple of meters? Finally, why does her stomach flip incessantly when Clarke Griffin smiles?

“Lexa! We really ought to avoid running one another into the ground.” Clarke steadies herself by gripping Lexa’s forearm. (Lexa feels as if literal flames are lapping around the skin there; she wishes she’d entirely combust at this point)

“I apologize, Clarke.” Lexa chokes out, but quickly recovers and slides her hands behind her back. “I will take care to pay attention to my surroundings from now on.”

“I’m teasing you, Lexa.” Clarke narrows her eyes playfully and takes a step back from Lexa’s personal space. “Really though, there has to be better ways for us to communicate.” Azure eyes sparkle up at viridian. Lexa feels her neck and cheeks grow warm.

“Perhaps, if we are fortunate enough, we’ll be assigned partners during a project in Potions this year.” Lexa clears her throat and glances away briefly, only to notice Raven watching quite raptly. Her stomach drops at the impish expression spreading across the brown-eyed girl’s face.

“The combination of Slytherin and Ravenclaw in any class, not to mention a Potions class, may cause the destruction of Hogwarts.” Clarke snickers, fingers toying with the neck on her V-neck sweater. Raven’s eyes brighten at the mentioning of destruction.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Raven Reyes. Future magical, chemical engineer… or perhaps something else. We’ll see. I like to see exothermic reactions run their course” She extends her hand out and Clarke grips it with a sly smile.

“Clarke Griffin, I couldn’t tell you what I’m interested in this point… well, other than painting and drawing.” Clarke releases Raven’s hand. “I know little about chemistry or whatever, so I won’t pretend to know what you said.” Lexa stores these little tidbits in her head and smiles gently at the blonde’s straightforward nature.

“No matter, Lexa here can teach you.” Raven points her thumb over at Lexa, whose spine became ramrod straight at the mention.

“Interesting. I didn’t see you much as a science buff, Lexa.” Blue eyes shine curiously.

“I-I know a bit. But, history, the human pursuit, and their implications are much more attractive to me.” Clarke seems surprised at Lexa’s forthright answer, probably expecting a non-answer or less, and smiles in return. _Lub-Lub dub, lub dub._ Lexa _feels_ her damn heart skip a beat. Did Raven slip something in her drink?

“I—“

“Clarke, you’re going to be late! Let’s go!” The shaggy haired boy from the train hollers after her, also donning Slytherin robes, nearly jogs up the stairs. Not a First year, then.

“Sorry.” Clarke throws her hands up in defeat at the boy and begins walking backwards towards him. “I’ll see you in there?” Her eyes meet Lexa’s.

Lexa nods stupidly and gets a bright grin in return.

“Clarke’s a she, huh?” Raven asks once the blonde is out of earshot.

“Raven…” A warning.

“So much for being nobody, _Commander_.” Raven’s shit-eating grin could light up the dingy corridor. “You’re like a little puppy around her! What’s the deal?!”

“Shut up.” Lexa quips, “She’s just someone I met in the Muggle world a few months ago.” Raven hums disbelievingly in response, causing poor, wound up Lexa to release an irritated huff. Raven merely barks a laugh and teases her the remainder of the walk.

//

Professor Sinclair droned on about mandatory attendance, proper form and etiquette, and the grading system for nearly three-quarters of an hour. Raven’s head has nearly merged with the polymer of their desktop at this point; mad scribblings coat her parchment (completely irrelevant to whatever Sinclair was explaining) accompanied by diagrams dancing across the page. Lexa, Raven, and Monty sit near the back of the classroom, giving Lexa an eagle-eye view of the entire room. Gustus has kept his posture, but she can tell his attention is waning. She’s also noticed Clarke has slumped considerably in her seat and now has a wandering quill encapsulated by her fingers; a greasy haired boy looks over to her paper intermittently, giving a nod of encouragement or approval each instance.

Lexa wonders if Clarke is drawing; what does she like to draw? Scenic encounters, candid expressions, or still lifes? Was she calculated and mechanical in her technique? Or was she organic and impulsive? What was her muse?

Unfortunately, Sinclair decides now was the time to exponentially increase the volume of his voice.

“Now, we will split into groups of two for our first assignment. Being passed around are the required materials and the _barebones_ of a recipe. I advise you to use your textbook as a secondary source.”

_Obviously, who’d be so dense not to realize this?_ Lexa slightly shakes her head. She sees movement in her periphery and catches Gustus tilting his head in her direction. _We got this,_ it connotes.

“Now don’t be so presumptuous to assume you’d actually _make_ the teams.” Sinclair catches gazes of students who are pairing up silently. “I will be making them.” A collective groan from the first years results. “One Slytherin and one Ravenclaw per team… Let’s get started.”

Lexa plops her chin into her palms and huffs softly. Gustus winds up being paired with a guy who rooms with Monty and she’s dutifully waiting to be assigned a partner. ( _Clarke, Clarke, Clarke)_ Raven also has not been paired.

“Griffin and…” Sinclair squints at the scroll of names, “Reyes.” Lexa’s head drops to the table with a loud _thump._ Raven sends Clarke a thumbs up across the room and nudges Lexa.

“Don’t worry, Woods. I’ll play nice.” Raven sniggers while packing up her things to move over to Clarke. Lexa withholds a snarl.

“Woods and Wallace.” She looks around the room for an indication of who her partner is. Lexa hears a few intakes of breath from surrounding peers and wonders what the issue is. “Cage stand up, please.”

A sallow looking boy, a little taller than Lexa, stands and runs a hand through honey colored hair. His eyes appear an endless black from where Lexa’s sitting and the haughty, sickening countenance makes Lexa’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

Cage reminds her of Emerson and his crew and while she does not like making snap judgments, she does _not_ get a good vibe from him. His body language tells her he is used to getting everything he wants and _then some_ ; no one dares to object his actions because of fear, not respect. (She couldn’t tell you why, yet) His finely tailored and immaculately stitched robes indicate he is wealthy to some extent and when he places his cauldron and quills down next to Lexa the wealth is further evident. (Lexa remembers looking at that very cauldron only to be scalded by Anya for having an inkling of thought to buy something _much more_ than what’s necessary)

“Cage Wallace,” He extends a slimy looking hand in Lexa’s direction. “My father has informed me it has been a while since someone from the Woods family has attended Hogwarts...I’ve heard a lot about your lineage.” His voice comes out condescending, but still prying. Like he’s trying to strike some backwoods deal. Lexa looks at his hand and just nods at him instead.

“Lexa Woods.” She opens her textbook to the prescribed potion; eyes alight with distaste for Cage. “I’d appreciate it if you’d please avoid talking about matters you have but an inkling of clue about, Mr. Wallace.” Lexa states this as if they were talking about the weather this morning; unflappable and crisp. Her hard-set jaw and eyes speak volumes otherwise.

Cage seems taken aback at first, but quickly recovers with a sneer.

“Good,” Lexa begins taking out a few round bottom flask, then points her wand at their stove. “ _Incendio._ ” Flames erupt underneath the cauldrons. “The first task at hand is to boil some water from the Black Lake in combination with Knotgrass until muddied in color. Let us begin.”

They work in silence for nearly an hour with the only noises coming from clinking of glassware and the occasional barked order from Lexa. She’s fiercely disappointed when she finds Cage’s ineptitude does not lie singularly with social constructs, but also in rudimentary identification and technique. He’d clearly not done any of the assigned readings for this week. Currently, Lexa was pulverizing a root in her mortar; _until a copious amount of juice has been released and the root uniformly mashed,_ the passage instructed. Cage was straining the composition begrudgingly with a handheld strainer, (she doubts he’s done _anything_ on his own before) and holding the root’s flowers in the opposite hand. He puts the strainer down, reads the barebones recipe, and holds the flowers above the pot.

“No, Cage! Don’t put that in--” _Plop_. “..yet.” Lexa drops her pestle and growls out loud. _Useless, idiotic…_

“It clearly says to add the petals after straining. Stop trying to be the boss.” Cage bristles, looking mighty proud of himself.

“The text also says to remove the stamens and combine them with the root compound.” Lexa looks inside the cauldron and finds it uncomfortably gurgling at them.

“It’s fine.” Cage walks over to where Lexa was mashing the root, picks up the mortar and a spoon, then proceeds to dump the lot of it into the pot. He grabs the large ladle and swirls counterclockwise. Lexa almost has an aneurysm.

“No, no, no! STOP.” She pushes him away from the cauldron, which is audibly hissing at this point. “How much of this can you screw up! Did you not read or listen to anything I’ve said?!” Lexa looks at the potion, finding it brown and foul smelling. She wasn’t sure if the inappropriate addition of root or over-stirring (and in the opposite direction) created the monstrosity.

“I mean, brown is close enough to red,” Cage puts a spoon in the mixture and pulls it out to test the consistency. “Not too thick either.” He has to flick his wrist harshly for it to disengage from the spoon, the gunk sploshing back into the cauldron heavily.

“It was supposed to be rose-colored and a viscosity triple that of water.” Lexa exclaims through her teeth. “It’s brown and resembles _molasses_ , you fool.”

Cage’s snakelike eyes snap up, clouded over with fury. Well, that got his attention.

“You’d be wise to watch who you mess with, Woods. My father is the Head of Hufflepuff and if you ever try and make me look bad again, I will end you.” Cage harshly whispers, eyes crazed and face growing redder by the second.

“I’d like to see you try, Wallace.” Lexa glowers back at him, voice dangerously low. “I’ve dealt with scum like you my entire life. Do. Your. Worst.”

“Ms. Woods, Mr. Wallace! How are we-- oh, my.” Professor Sinclair has impeccable timing, she thinks, and observes as he gapes at their mess of a concoction. “Was there a mistake in the order of addition?”

“Lexa forgot to remove the stamens from the flower, Professor. I kept telling her, but she wasn’t listening.” Cage half-yells with an exasperated look. Sinclair’s eyebrows raise quickly, clearly surprised.

“I expected more from you, Ms. Woods. This is not a lone wolf experiment and you need to be able to communicate with your fellow classmates,” Sinclair shakes his head. “Five points will be removed from Ravenclaw.”

“But, sir!” Lexa stammers, eyes wide. Sinclair holds up a hand.

“You will come in at 10:00 on Sunday and begin reworking this potion.” Professor Sinclair says tersely. “Careful inspection and meticulous technique is imperative in this class. Clean up and reflect upon what I’ve said.”

The professor turns and begins inspecting other students’ work, leaving Lexa gaping like a fish out of water. She knew how important succeeding in potions was; knowing some of its secrets have saved many wizards from the harshest of fates. Hence why she spent the past few days digging up as much background information as she could, annotating small tips and hints as she went. But, of course, along comes Cage _bloody_ Wallace with zero regard for anything and ruins everything she worked for thus far. Lexa felt her hands shaking; she was livid.

“Consider that a warning, Woods.” Cage’s snake-like remark slithered over her shoulder; Lexa shifts her jaw sideways and takes a deep breath before turning around.

“Try as hard as you might, Wallace, but your grades, or lack thereof, will be the final determining factor. You may have succeeded in messing up this project for me, but your inability to analyze and perform will be the end of _all_ of your projects.” Lexa is the true epitome of Anya in this moment; her eyes lowered and somber, lips set in a firm line, and head held high. Her voice is sleek with confidence and unsympathetic towards its intended target. Cage opens his mouth to speak, but Lexa holds a hand up to silence him and begins to walk away.

“Clean up this mess with me, Wallace. Then, you are free to continue your dalliances elsewhere.”

(While Lexa’s face does not reveal this, she hears Raven whistle low and fall apart into a fit of stifled giggles with Clarke trying her damndest to shush her)

Luckily for Lexa, being stuck in the musky and dark dungeon for Potions wasn’t too much different than Newham, so staying a bit later didn’t bother her much. She saw Cage beginning to dispose of their failed project one minute and the next minute he was gone, leaving her with an improperly discarded mess. It took her additional time to scoop out the unsightly goop from the sinks and into their proper disposal bins, before sanitizing the cauldron for Sunday.

Which leaves her walking out of class fifteen minutes after everyone else had left, her satchel smacking the backs of her thighs as she goes.

She finds herself thinking how she’s never had to deal with incompetence in her studies before and is very frustrated that her partner’s lack of initiative has cost her reputation and a potential grade.

Lexa grunts out a sigh.

If she’s learned anything from her studies, it is that she, and she alone, is responsible for her future and potential success. Lexa needs to figure out how to deal with Cage for now and then shun any future endeavours quickly and swiftly.

Of course, if she has to work with any of his goonies, it may be just as bad…

She shakes her head vigorously; _let's not jinx it._

“You know,” A soft voice reaches out from the corridor, breaking Lexa from her thoughts. “When I met you in that muggle market those months ago, I had no idea I was talking to near nobility.” Lexa finds blue and gold irradiating the dungeon with brilliance, but tilts her head in confusion at her words. “The Woods Clan has produced the greatest leaders and innovators of the Auror world. For decades, they’ve been bred to be merciless; capable of ending wars in mere seconds.” Lexa sucks in a sharp breath at this knowledge and quickly schools her features.

“Clarke,” Lexa pierces a gaze into the girl adjacent to her. Clarke is pushed back against the stone wall, hair flowing over her shoulder, and eyes dancing playfully. The Slytherin badge stands out proudly on her left breast pocket, accentuated by the silver and green tie which has been tugged a bit loose. Lexa feels her heart tug uncomfortably in her chest; she’s tempted to perform a sternal rub to make the offending muscle stop its nonsense.

“I am just Lexa; nothing more. My clan does not define me. I am just me…” Lexa trails off, but feels a soft _boop_ on her nose.

“So serious, Lexa.” Clarke smiles wistfully. “The only thing you have in common with your brother.”

“You know Gustus?” Lexa seems surprised.

“Naturally. We _are_ in all of the same classes” Clarke giggles gently.

“Of course… Sorry,” Lexa grips at the back of her neck.

“No need to be,” Lexa observes Clarke rubbing at her wrist slightly, looking down with a slight apprehension. “I’d like to know you too, you know.”

“I’d like that too, Clarke.” Lexa thinks her face is probably splitting in two at this point, which is absolutely worth it because Clarke is _beaming_ and radiant and--

“LEXA!” Raven comes bounding around the stairwell. “What are you doing! Stop drooling on poor Clarke, we need to get our flying game on!” She stomps over to Lexa and starts dragging her out by her robes. Raven is mumbling about taking over the Quidditch team next year because the current team is a bunch of swaddled infants.

“Bye, Lexa!” Clarke looks like she’s holding herself back from doubling over in laughter at the sight of _Big bad, serious Alexandria Woods_ being mothered by her little Latina counterpart.

“Bye, Clarke~” Raven singsongs and throws a devious smile over her shoulder while Lexa petulantly pouts, waving slightly from her tousled position.

//

Lexa reveals that she is a natural at handling a broomstick; Professor Trikru clapped her hard on her back and told her if Lexa honed her control and juggle multiple tasks at once, she’d be an amazing addition to the Ravenclaw squad next year.

She split up from Raven after the lessons and told her she’d find her before dinner. Lexa made up a half-assed excuse about needing to find Soncha; Raven narrowed her eyes and scoffed about her being a _terrible_ liar.

In reality, what Clarke had revealed to Lexa about the Woods Clan was troubling. She distinctly remembers Anya avoiding conversations about the family, particularly about the Kongeda Natblida. Anya emotionally disconnected herself from these conversations and made matter-of-fact statements, ending any talk as quickly as it arose. Lexa propped herself up against a nearby tree and watched as Hogwarts students scurried off to their various destinations. She didn’t understand why there was such secrecy necessary, especially when it is to be noted that nearly everyone seemed to know about her family. Why couldn’t she?

Lexa perks up when she sees a crowd of first years dramatically part and long braids of dirty blonde come into view. Anya is holding a thick textbook underneath her arm and is flanked by two men (Lexa can’t remember their names; they had a brief introduction before Anya shooed her away). She looks every bit menacing and regal as she normally does; Lexa feels her petulant streak tickle at the back of her neck.

(Anya must bring out something in Lexa because she has never been the one to willingly look for trouble.)

“Anya,” Lexa walks in front of her cousin’s path; Anya looks surprised initially.

“Alexandria,” Anya tilts her head down in a formal greeting, Lexa folds her hands behind her back.

“May I have a moment?” Lexa looks up at her tall cousin intensely.

“You may,” Anya motions over towards a few benches on the outskirts of the walking paths. During their short walk, Lexa focuses on controlling her breathing and temper; Anya does not react or acquiesce to outbursts. She’ll walk away and laugh condescendingly.

“I’ve been hearing a lot of talk this week,” Lexa sits down on the bench and folds her hands into her lap. “About our family.”

“We are well known among certain circles of magical families, yes.” Anya nods, face not giving anything away.

“It has been brought to my attention that our family was a distinct subgroup of the Aurors…” Lexa carefully chooses her next words. “Seemingly akin to assassins, trained since birth.”

“You are not incorrect, but you are not correct, either.” Anya begins, voice gravely low. “Who is feeding you this information?”

“Multiple sources have been giving bits and pieces of information; Cage Wallace, that slimy piece of-- he acted as if I were some prize to gain if I were to befriend him.” Lexa clenches her jaw aggressively.

“His father served within the Ministry of Magic for some time, so it is not surprising they’ve heard of our family.” Anya’s tone is laced with annoyance. “However, sharing this sort of information to a boy is highly unprofessional and crass. Mother will hear about this.”

“Anya, was our family assassinated because of what they did?”

“Lexa…” Anya’s expression is uncomfortable and warns for her to stop while she’s ahead.

“I’m going to find out somehow, it is better if you just told me yourself!” Lexa begins harshly, toning down slightly when people start turning and staring.

“Listen, I can’t tell you everything.” Anya rubs at her upper jaw line, trying to push away the stress. “Just know that due to the actions and sacrifices of our family, greater good has prevailed and many conflicts have been resolved.”

“By killing people.” Lexa chokes out and starts to stand.

“No! They were more than that, Lexa!” Anya’s hand darts out and grabs Lexa’s forearm, effectively pulling her back down. “Kongeda Natblidas is an elite group of Aurors, only used in the severest of situations. Our family worked tirelessly, fighting politics and bureaucracy, to reach that rank. They were not handed or expected by the Ministry to get into that group… they worked _that_ hard.” Anya’s eyes are hard and her tone is sharp as she releases Lexa’s arm. “Our clan has particular expertises which make us very fit for that line of work.” Lexa nods slowly, listening carefully. “Our family was massacred by an inside job, in their sleep; by a traitor.” Anya snarls this out in disgust.

“What…” She gasps, entirely taken aback.

“My parents were called back by the Ministry of Magic during a stint in Bulgaria… If they hadn’t, they also would have been dead. Someone infiltrated the ranks of the Kongeda Natblidas, acted as their friends’ for _years_ , and then eradicated an entire unit overnight.” Her fists are turning white, “My father found them a few years later and avenged our family… Blood must have blood.”

Anya stands and looks down at Lexa. “It is our duty as the incoming generation to do this family proud, Alexandria. It is my goal, and perhaps your goal in the future, to be strong enough, to be smart enough, to be cunning enough… to join their ranks and hunt down the remainder of those who threaten the security of our world and future.”

She turns her back on Lexa, “Think hard about this, Lexa. Do not question your lineage, do not let anyone question you. If you accept this fate, if you wish to avenge our family and protect this world, prove it. Be the best in everything you do.” Anya puts her hands on her hips and looks up at the darkening sky. “If you begin on this path, more will be revealed. But for now, this is all I can tell you.”

Eyes of the forest snap closed, holding back tears of anger, and small hands ball into fists. Lexa feels ashamed, questioning the authenticity and ingenuity of her family. After everything they’ve done for her as of late... She releases a shaky breath and looks at Anya’s back, nodding silently to herself.

“I understand, Anya. Please forgive my ignorance. I will do everything in my power to make you and our family proud, in whatever way I can.” Lexa steps forward. “I know I am still young and learning, but I want to make it known now that it will be the greatest honor to attempt to follow in our clan’s footsteps. I want to avenge our family. I want to help this world.”

“Don’t be impulsive, Lexa. Take some time to think about it, learn about the Auror world. Imagine that world and increase the intensity ten folds.” Anya looks back at Lexa, eyes soft, before walking towards the stone thresholds in the distance.

“For the record, I am already proud of you, idiot. Keep up the good work.”

Years from now, Lexa vehemently denies that Anya’s ever made her cry.

(the crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks and staining her robes in this moment are evidence that these claims are, in fact, false)

**Author's Note:**

> Come shoot me some questions on tumblr or twitter:  
> @ezybreezy16  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/smilestaybreezyy  
> I love drawing and thought I'd try my hand at writing, but because of that love I'll try and add at least one drawing a chapter :)  
> 


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